#i was in the next season it was called boarding house and it was lowkey terrifying and surreal

[gayxavierplympton]

the next season of ahs shouldnt have any white women under 45 allowed in the cast. milfs, fruits, and angelica ross ONLY

#NO evanpeters NO emma. lastname #i forget #no more white girls!!! wednesday is OVER #kathy bates jessica lange and angela bassett play a monster-rehabilitating lesbian power throuple #cody is their gay little adopted son #angelica ross plays the main character #a girl who refuses to believe in monsters. she sees them and touches them and everything and shes still like 'im not buyin it' #i just remember ahs cause i had a dream abt it #i was in the next season it was called boarding house and it was lowkey terrifying and surreal

[broadstbroskis]

no better company than you | nathan mackinnon

a/n: alright, i’m rolling in late for @antoineroussel oussel summer exchange (thank you love, for running such a lovely exchange again, it was wonderful and i’m glad i was able to particiapte) and i’m very sorry for the lateness! i had the pleasure of writing for the lovely @ghstandpucks​ 💜 again, i am SO sorry about the wait but i hope you enjoy this! 

word count: 3.2k

-----

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You slide into the booth and throw your bag down next to you, hoping to god you don’t look as frazzled as you feel; this restaurant is far too nice.

Nate just smiles at your words, too familiar with your family by now to know that you’re always running 5-10 minutes behind. He’s ordered a bottle of wine- a nice rosé, fitting for the beautiful end of summer day- and had already started pouring a matching glass for you the second you started sitting down. “How’d the interview go?”

You bite your lip. “Eh.” 

“I’m sure it went better than you think.” Nate says encouragingly. “You’re too hard on yourself. All three of you are.”

And well, that’s not a lie. Your siblings were just as critical of themselves as you were. Sid was famously known for it and Taylor, your twin, was as bad as you. But…

“Listen to you!” You laugh at him. Nate’s just as bad as the three of you. A mini-Sid in many ways, to many people in your hometown.

But that was in Canada. This was Denver. And here, Nate was cool. Laid-back. Lowkey. Everything a professional athlete should be. Nobody knew about what a dork he really was, except his teammates.

And now, maybe you too, if all went well with this job interview.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nate says, looking at his menu to feign ignorance.

You giggle, pulling your own up toward your face. “Sure, buddy.”

It’s not often that you and Nate spend time one on one like this, even if you see him all the time over the summer. He’s usually with your brother when you see him, politely trying to decline your mom’s invites to dinner or already hanging at Sid’s house when you invite yourself over to your brother’s house for pool or lake time. Usually time one on one with Nate like this is brief, usually like in passing while he’s waiting for Sid in the kitchen while you’re eating.

It’s nice. Nate’s funnier than people give him credit for and it’s easy to relax into dinner and conversation, to forget about the anxiety from your interview as you chat about what’s new for both of you and gossip about people you both know.

By the time he drops you off at your hotel, it’s late and you’re too tired (and maybe just on the right side of tipsy) to even worry about the interview. You just barely change into pajamas, run through your nightly routine, and climb into bed, before shutting the lights off. It feels like you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow. 

In the morning, you’re awoken by the sound of your phone ringing, and it takes a second for you to place the sound, but when you do you pounce on it, recognizing the local area code immediately. “Good morning.” You say, trying your hardest not to sound like you woke up literally thirty seconds ago.

It’s human resources, from the job you interviewed for yesterday.

You got it.

-----

“Ew, no!” Your dad holds his hands up innocently, when you rush over to stop him from unpacking a box. “Why would you put that there?”

“Hey, sweetie, maybe it’s time for a break.” Your mom says gently, exchanging a look with your dad, who nods his agreement enthusiastically.

Which is fair. You’d just about almost taken his fingers off just because you didn’t like where he was unpacking colanders. 

“Dinner!’” Your dad latches onto immediately. “Nate offered to take us all out tonight, I’ll let him know we’re ready.”

“Ready?” You frown, looking down at your workout shorts and baggy t-shirt.

“We’ll be ready in an hour.” He amends, already texting Nate.

Nate knocks on the door to the new condo you’re renting an hour and fifteen minutes later, sheepishly grinning when your dad tells him that you and your mom still need a few minutes. “Thought I had my timing perfect.”

Your dad snorts. “Oh buddy. Keep dreaming.”

He’s not too off on his timing, but unfortunately for Nate, you don’t have too much else going for you in your condo yet. Your dad had gotten your TV all set up, but in addition to the TV and living room furniture, you haven’t gotten much else, and that includes food and beverages. So the two of them sit in mostly silence while they wait another few minutes for you and your mom to finish getting ready. 

“I told you that you should have just met us there.” You tell Nate, as he trips on a box on his way out the door.

“Oh, so this wasn’t deliberate sabotage?” He deadpans.

“You caught me. Just trying to keep you around the city full time until I have time to make better friends.”

Nate laughs, as the two of you follow your parents out the door. “Be nicer to me or I won’t introduce you to my friends.”

“Who said I want to be friends with your friends?”

“Children.” Your mom turns to look back at you and Nate smiles at her innocently, but it’s been a while since that’s fooled her. “Do we need to stay home?”

It serves to get the two of you moving, even as you laugh at her joke. Nate drives you to another one of his favorite restaurants, and dinner flies by, with Nate insisting on picking up the tab, even when your dad tries to fight him on it. 

It’s started to cool down a little by the time you’re walking back toward the car, Nate and your dad still fake-fighting about paying for dinner, and you find yourself not realizing you’re smiling at the two of them as you walk behind them until your mom bumps your shoulder. “A few hours off for dinner with some good company was just what you needed.” She says.

And even though the smile on her face seems too knowing, you’re too tired to ask about it right now, so you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, this was nice.” You smile back at her.

-----

Mel Landeskog pokes her head around the corner and you wave at her, trying to catch her attention. “Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think he was serious.”

“I mean.” You bite your lip. “I did have to work today.”

“I would have picked you up!” She shakes her head, muttering under her breath, and you know Nate’s going to get an earful from her later. “But no, no. That dumbass just let you come all the way over here by yourself. Sends me a text to come meet you by the door. All casual.”

“I mean.” You send her a look. “Did you expect anything different from Nate?”

It’s the way she looks at you and sets her face that almost has you nervous for Nate. You’ve known Mel for a long time now, but really, you don’t know her from more than just years of NHL events. “I do now.” She says.

You hope Nate knew what he was getting himself into sending Mel a text to come find you earlier.  

Once she leads you up into the box with some of the wives and kids, she’s back to smiling and laughing, making introductions all around. The mood all around is light and easy, everyone excited for the home opener of the season, and happy to be back with everyone again. 

It’s fun to be back in this atmosphere. Hockey’s been a part of your life for so long and there’s truly nothing like the energy of the first game of the season. You feed off the energy, catching up with some familiar faces and chatting with all the other girls, probably too excited when they invite you to a girl’s night later in the week, but it feels good to have plans that don’t involve trying to invite yourself to Nate’s when you’re bored.

“Hey, good job tonight.” You nudge him afterwards, catching up with him in the family room.

He laughs, pulling you in for a hug. “A little different than what you were used to?”

“It lived up to the hype, I guess.”

“I’ll turn you from a Pens fan.” Nate promises. 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Feel Sid’s wrath.”

“What’s he going to do? Check me into the boards? Bring it.”

Nate’s been hanging out with your brother and your family for years now, so he should really know better by now. “Okay, buddy.” You pat his shoulder patronizingly. “Sure.”

“I could take him.” Nate insists. 

“Throw hands. Next game. I dare you.” 

He side-eyes you, because you both know that’s not going to happen and it’s only a minute before you’re both laughing. 

“I better see you on Friday!” Ashley Kadri shouts out to you as she’s walking past with Naz and Naylah, interrupting your laughter. “No excuses!”

“I’ll be there!” You call back. “Promise!”

When you look back, Nate’s pouting-exaggerated, albeit, but pouting. “Are you ditching me this Friday?”

“Yup. Found better company.”

“How dare you?” He cries. “There is no better company.”

“Well.” You shrug. “I’ll know for sure after happy hour on Friday.”

“Find your own ride home.” Nate says and then he starts speed walking away from you at an absurd speed.

“Nate!” You protest, jogging to catch up and he finally slows down enough for you to catch up when you round the corner, bumping your shoulder right back when you purposely bump into him in retaliation.

-----

No one lets loose like a group of moms when they’ve got a night without their kids.

Someone has mentioned this to you before, at a bachelorette party or a wedding or something, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen it really in action before until this happy hour. 

“If the waitress comes back, order me another drink!” Kerry calls, before running off to the bathroom.

The waitress nods at her, before addressing the rest of you. “Another round?”

“Oh, please!” Mel nods quickly and repeatedly.

“Can we get a few more orders of mozzarella sticks too, please?” You look down at the empty plates in front of you. “And maybe some nachos too?”

“Yes!” Jackie lights up across from you. “Great call!”

It pretty much only goes downhill from there and by the end of the night, both Mel and Ashley are crying for reasons no one is sure of entirely and you’re pretty grateful to see Nate among the group of husbands and boyfriends to come to pick up all their girlfriends.

So grateful you scream his name the second you see him. “Nate!”

He winces, trying to pull his ear away from you, but he’s laughing. “Guess you had a good time, huh?”

“Uh huh!” You nod enthusiastically, not realizing how loud you are until he winces again.

Nate laughs. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.”

You gasp loudly. “I can’t leave my new friends!”

“Your new friends are all leaving you!”

You frown, but look around and realize he’s right. Naz has already sneakily pulled Ashley out of the bar and Gabe and Erik were collecting Mel and Jackie’s things. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nate parrots. “Come on, get your stuff, crazy girl.”

“Hey!” You protest, grabbing your purse. “I am the least crazy person in my family.”

“I hate to break it to you.” Nate says, as he guides you into standing. “But that’s not saying much.”

He’s right, but you bump him with your shoulder anyway as you walk past. That’s about sibling honor and shit.

Nate parked too far away and by the time you reach his car, you’re leaning on him, the adrenaline from hanging out with friends wearing off quickly. Nate’s nice about it, guiding you to his car and then helping you into his front seat before heading around to the driver’s side. 

“You guys had a fun time then?” Nate says, once he’s started driving and you’re half asleep leaning against the window. “Looks like it at least.”

“Yeah.” You nod sleepily. “But you were right.”

He chuckles. “About what?”

“There’s no better company than you.”

-----

Nate becomes pretty clingy after that night, texting and facetiming whenever he’s out of town, and stopping by pretty much anytime he’s got a free minute. It quickly becomes something you look forward to, missing his visits when he’s out of town and looking forward to his calls, smiling when his texts come in and breaking up your work day. And it isn’t long before you realize that you’re being just the same. Sending him messages before and after games. Inviting yourself over for dinner and making Nate cheat on his diet.

In a blessed move from the NHL scheduling department, Sid and the rest of the Pens are scheduled to arrive in town on a Friday morning and aren’t leaving until the end of the weekend. 

They have a practice scheduled for early afternoon, which is perfect for you to wrap up your work day before heading over to watch the end.

Geno lights up when he sees you watching from the glass, the first person to acknowledge you, and skating over in the middle of the drill, leaving behind two shocked linemates. “Mini!” He shouts cheerfully, even as you roll your eyes at your least favorite nickname. All because you happen to be the shortest of your siblings. “Great to see you.”

“You too, Geno.” You smile warmly at him, a little annoyed that you can’t get a giant bear hug from your favorite pseudo-older brother right away. “But I don’t think a few other people feel the same right now.” You jerk your chin back over his shoulder. 

He turns his head quickly but then looks back. “Psh. They’ll get over it.”

You bust out laughing, which is right about when your brother comes over, and in classic Sid fashion, is all about hockey. “Stop being a distraction.”

“I was minding my own business until Geno came over here!” You protest, even as Geno starts laughing and Sid eyes you skeptically. 

“Why don’t I believe that one?” Sid says dryly and sure, maybe you were making faces at some of the guys you knew well as they were passing you, but you weren’t actively being a distraction.

“That’s your prerogative.” You tell Sid, who shakes his head and pulls Geno back for the remainder of practice. 

Practice doesn’t last for too much longer and you spend a few minutes chatting with the coaching staff while you wait for Sid to change. But he and Geno finally come out of the locker room and you stop mid-sentence to throw yourself at your brother.

Sid’s laughing and so are you, but both of you start laughing even harder when Geno pulls you both into his arms. “Two of my favorite people!”

“Taylor’s going to be so offended.” Kris grins, watching the three of you amused.

“Taylor?” You grin back at him, going for a hug once Geno releases you. “How about his wife and kid?”

“Those are my other favorite people.” Geno reasons.

“Now I’m offended.” Kappy deadpans.

“You’re not even close.” Geno grins, roughing his hair.

Kappy tries to get him right back, but Geno just swats his hand away and then Sid’s shaking his head, like this is just the same shit, different day. “Look what you did.”

You grin, leaning against him. “Not sorry. I’ve missed this entertainment.”

Sid shakes his head. “Then you can round them up for dinner.”

You do. Easily.

Nate had suggested one of the team’s favorite restaurants and you’re happy to see that he’d accepted your invitation to join everyone, even if he rolls in a little late. You’re deep into Kris’ camera roll, looking at pictures of his kids and catching up on stories that you haven’t heard about them recently, so you don’t even notice he’s arrived and said hello already until he blows on the back of your neck.

You jump. “What the hell?”

Nate’s grinning. “Hey.”

You shake your head at him and bump your shoulders against him. “Hey.” You mimic and then turn right back to Kris.

But your shoulder stays leaning on Nate, and it remains there comfortably all night.

-----

Sid’s a little cranky when you first meet him for breakfast the morning after the game and you’re sure it has everything to do with the last minute turnover that cost them the game (and bragging rights over Nate this summer, which is really what he’s probably cranky about).

He gets over it pretty quickly though, and soon the two of you are laughing and talking, catching up about your family and your lives.

“-and I even love my office, the vibes are just great!”

Sid shakes his head. “Vibes.”

You grin. You know he hates that word. “Good vibes.” You confirm.

“So you’re liking Denver?”

“Love it.” You confirm, smiling.

“Meeting good people?”

You eye him skeptically. “Yes dad. I already said my coworkers are great and I’ve been hanging out with Nate and his friends a lot too. It’s good”

“Geno thinks there’s something going on between you and Nate.” Sid says casually.

The jump of your heart is far from casual. “Oh yeah?”

Sid eyes you but his response to that is surprising. “You know if there was something going on between you and Nate that would be okay?” He pauses, watching you again, but your face is completely neutral, purposely not moving. “Right?”

“You know if there was something going on between me and Nate that your opinion wouldn’t matter at all, right?”

He grins, laughing as he nods, but after he takes a bite of pancakes he says, “To you, yeah. To him, it does.”

“Why?” You blurt out, giving yourself away before you can stop yourself.

But Sid doesn’t say anything to that. He grins again and then changes the subject entirely.

-----

You only make it about a day before you’re knocking on Nate’s door, pretty forcefully.

“What’s up?” He swings the door open, with a frown. “You okay?”

“Does what my brother thinks really matter to you that much?” You blurt out. It’s been bothering you ever since Sid mentioned it at breakfast. That you lasted this long was probably a miracle.

Nate blushes and your jaw drops. “It-”

“Oh my god.” You grin delightedly. “Come on, really?”

“That’s not-” He blows out a frustrated sigh. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You nod, but you’re pretty sure he’s not going to get far into what he’s going to say.

He sighs again. “It’s not about, like, his approval, or shit. It’s just- he’s important to you. So obviously he’s important to me-”

You kiss him. 

“You know that you don’t even have to worry about that, right?” At some point, you’d slid one hand to his hip and the other arm around his neck, and the hand there plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I’ll argue about that with you later.” Nate says impatiently and so you’re laughing when he kisses you again.

#nathan mackinnon fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

[kurokoros]

if you leave, when i go (find me in the shallows) | todoroki shouto

Rated: M

Words: 24.5K (she’s long)

Pairing: merman!shouto todoroki x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

AN: Written for the @bnhabookclub “just add water” event. I used dialogue prompts 2 and 10 from their list. This was supposed to be a short, 7K one-shot and that... did not happen lmao. I’m a little surprised that I finished this on time, but I’m so happy that I did. I do have two alternate endings to this that I plan to write, so stay tuned for those! Now, I need to sleep for the next ~24 hours. Enjoy!

Also, sorry, but per the laws of anime logic, your side ponytail mother is probably dead, and your deadbeat father left you, so you’re living with your cousin in this. AKA: I’m the only Manual stan in the fandom and needed to put him in this fic.

Special thanks to @sadistiks and @shinsotired for beta reading the first half of this fic! They really helped me figure out the pacing. And special thanks to @freckledoriya for motivating me to write this in the first place!

Warnings: smut (one scene towards the end, feel free to skip it!), lowkey breeding kink (???),  language, character death, descriptions of drowning, violence, mentions of blood 

XXX

Waves lap at your bare toes as you walk along the edge of the water, searching for sea glass in the sand—a futile effort; it’s growing dark, storm clouds rolling overhead. It isn’t raining, yet, but the air is damp with forewarning, and the ocean breeze sweeping in from the water chills your skin. The empty bucket you’ve been carrying brushes against your knee with every step. 

In front of you, Bakugou groans low in the back of his throat, almost growling as he stomps through the sand. “This is stupid,” he grumbles, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his orange and black board shorts. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the expression he’s wearing: brows furrowed in a scowl and lip pulled back in a sneer. 

Rolling your eyes, you kick water at him. “Then why did you come?” you ask, ignoring his complaints. He’s never liked the beach. And he makes that known every time the rest of you drag him out here, but you know he’s all talk. If he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t have let you and Ochako and Kirishima pull him out of bed to come here.

“It’s not stupid if we’re having fun,” Ochako chirps from beside you, an extra bounce in her step. Her fingers are laced together behind her back, and she’s handed her bucket off to Kirishima at some point, the boy dutifully combing the beach with a careful eye for anything shiny.

Bakugou glances at Ochako, and his gaze softens around the edges. His voice doesn’t have nearly as much bite when he says, “Speak for yourself, shorty.” It’s hard not to give in to the bubbly girl. Between her and Kirishima, Bakugou is almost pleasant to be around. Almost.

Midoriya isn’t the least bit put out by Bakugou’s complaining, his smile sunny as he looks around the empty beach. There’s no one out here but the six of you, and it’s almost disconcerting without the usual flock of tourists and locals alike. “Come on, Kacchan,” he says, glancing at the other boy, “we’re almost done! After this, we can stop at the store on the way back to Kirishima’s house.”

Iida speaks up for the first time, trailing behind the rest of you vigilantly, watching for even a hint of trouble. “Midoriya is right,” he tells all of you, fixing his glasses and sending you all a stern look. “We shouldn’t stay out here much longer, with the storm coming in.” He hadn’t wanted to come out at all today, with the weather, but when the rest of you decided to go regardless, he caved, claiming that someone with common sense needed to watch out for you.

He’s also the only one wearing a raincoat and rubber boots on the beach, prepared for a storm that won’t hit for at least another hour. 

“Man, you worry too much,” Kirishima tells him, giving up on his search for anything in the sand. He flashes Iida a wide grin as he fixes his headband. “It’s just a little rain!”

The rest of you groan as Iida’s eyes narrow, preparing for a lecture. And, sure enough, Iida tenses, straightening almost painfully. “It’s not just a little rain, Kirishima,” he chastises, arms already beginning to move around wildly. “An ocean storm can be incredibly dangerous, even if this one isn’t expected to cause a tsunami!” He continues, reciting facts about storms and tsunamis that you’re almost positive he memorized from some textbook, but you tune him out easily.

Ochako does the same as you, already bored, and Kirishima and Bakugou take turns egging Iida on with sarcastic remarks. Midoriya is the only one that actually seems interested in Iida’s storm facts, but that isn’t surprising. He’d probably be taking notes if he had a pen on hand.

With a sigh, you glance out over the water. The ocean is all deep blues and shades of grey from the oncoming storm. You probably should have just stayed home. It’s better to search for sea glass after a storm anyway; the waves wash everything ashore. But you like the quiet. The calm before the storm.

You drag your toes through the sand, flicking more water at Bakugou’s legs. Something smooth brushes your skin, and you probably would have ignored it if you hadn’t been staring at the ground. A bright flash of color against the grains of sand makes you still, and you crouch, reaching underwater. What you pull from the ocean is a pretty piece of sea glass. The edges are rubbed smooth from years tumbling through the water, and the glass is almost a teardrop in shape, long and not quite flat, just big enough to fit comfortably in your palm.

It’s the most breathtaking shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

Ochako is beside you in an instant, peering over your shoulder at what you’ve found and accidentally splashing you with saltwater. “Did you find something?” she asks excitedly, eyes widening when she sees what you have. “Ooh, turquoise! That’s amazing! I’ve never seen that color before, ugh, I’m so jealous!” She hooks her arm around your waist as you stand up, squeezing you in a tight hug.

Kirishima leans over as well, interested in anything marine in nature. He grins. “Hey! Nice job!” he says, slapping you on the back a little too hard. 

The good natured hit sends you careening forward with a yelp, the uneven sand leaving you off balance. Ochako yanks you back, but not before you knock your arm against Bakugou’s. That only further irritates the huffy blond, but he doesn’t snap at you like usual, just grabs your arm to keep you from accidentally falling down.

Quirking a brow, he glances at the piece of sea glass you have cradled in your palm. He’s not impressed. “I can’t believe you dumbasses dragged me out here for this,” Bakugou gripes, but even that doesn’t sound convincing. Ochako and Kirishima’s excitement is infectious, and despite his complaining, you know Bakugou never really means it.

Midoriya and Iida have stopped as well, and the latter pulls his raincoat closer. “Yes, very nice job, Mizushima,” he tells you, trying to shoo the rest of you away from the water. “Now we need to leave before the storm hits.”

A chorus of “yes, Iida” and “whatever” are your responses, but the taller boy doesn’t take the grumbling to heart. You’ll all get over it by the time you make it back to Kirishima’s house. Besides, you’d rather avoid the rain if you can.

Iida places his hands on his hips and watches Ochako, Kirishima, and Midoriya turn around, heading back up the beach to where Bakugou’s car is sitting in the parking lot. When you and Bakugou don’t follow, Iida turns to the two of you, arching one eyebrow as if daring you to argue—a look you know isn’t being directed at you.

Bakugou huffs and turns away, glaring across the beach, and you roll your eyes. He was the one that wanted to leave just a minute ago. 

As the others stop a few feet away, waiting for you, you run your thumb along the smooth edge of the sea glass you found, keeping it tucked gingerly between your fingers as you shift your weight to your other leg and bump your hip up against Bakugou’s. “Come on, asshole. Let’s go before you give Iida a conniption.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles back, still glaring off into the distance. Bakugou tenses suddenly, and you glance at him curiously, brows furrowing when you see his wide eyes. You follow his gaze further down the beach, but can’t find anything that might have caught his attention. There’s nothing down there but craggly rocks leading further out into the water, the kind people dare their friends to walk across in weather like this. 

Dread crawls into your chest, and, sure enough, Bakugou calls out, “Hold on,” before taking off down the beach, heading right for the rocks.

Kirishima reacts first, clearly exasperated as he shouts, “Bakugou! Bro, come back!” and jogs over to where you’re standing. Salt water splashes your bare legs, soaking the right left side of your shorts as Kirishima accidentally kicks water at you.

And Midoriya isn’t far behind, coming to stand on Kirishima’s other side. “Kacchan, wait!” he calls after the other boy, caught somewhere between worried and annoyed.

“Bakugou, come back here this instant!” Iida shouts, already stomping across the sand after the other boy. He looks less than threatening in his oversized raincoat and boots covered in multicolored polka-dots (a gift from Ochako), and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing as his boot sticks in the sand and nearly trips him. “This is not following storm protocol!”

Dropping your empty bucket onto the ground just out of the waters reach, you glare at Bakugou’s retreating form, lips pursed. “I’ll get him,” you tell the others, not waiting for a response before you jog after him, racing right past Iida. Out of the five of you, you’re probably the one with the greatest chance of getting Bakugou to come back quietly. Kirishima could do it, but he could also be easily swayed into doing the stupid thing, too, and you really don’t want to see Iida blow a gasket tonight.

The wet sand sucks at your feet with each step, making it hard to run, and Bakugou disappears over the rocks before you can catch him, but that doesn’t stop you.

“Bakugou,” you shout, climbing up onto the rocks after him. The stone is rough beneath your bare feet, but any sharp edges have been weathered away by the ocean currents. Spiky, blond hair catches your eye as you scramble to the top of the rocks. He’s down lower, closer to the open water, where the waves are bigger, stronger, a little wild from the brimming storm. “Bakugou, slow down, what are you doing?” You follow a careful distance behind him, unwilling to risk slipping into the water.

“Shut up!” he calls back, loud over the sloshing waves. “I thought I saw something.”

You roll your eyes and slide down the other side of the rock, struggling to keep up with him. “Saw something?” you repeat, half-mocking him. “Like what?” There’s nothing out here but water and whatever fish were unlucky enough to get caught in the currents and forced this close to shore. When he doesn’t reply, you huff, pausing in your climb to brush dirt from your legs. “Come on, Iida’s right, we need to get off the beach before--” You cut off with a choked sound as you’re left facing the empty ocean where he was just standing. 

Breath catching, your heart plummets, causing your stomach to churn as you take another step forward. “Bakugou?” you call out, hesitant, and the stirring wind sweeps your voice out to sea. Nothing. Your throat grows tighter, and your chest grows cold, icy fingers slotting against your ribs and squeezing until you can’t breathe. “Bakugou!”

You scramble down the side of the rock, but stop before you reach the edge, legs frozen. If Bakugou slipped and the current took him, it could just as easily rip you down as well. Shit. You need to get Iida. Or call Masaki. Or an ambulance. If Bakugou hit his head--

Hands grab you from behind, latching onto your waist and yanking you back against a firm chest, and you scream, throwing up your hands in shock.

A familiar snicker reaches your ears, and you drive your elbow back into Bakugou’s chest, satisfaction rushing through you when he grunts in discomfort and lets you go. “Asshole!” you snap, whirling around to glare at him. The rocks are slippery beneath you, but you don’t even care, too pissed at his shitty prank to think about anything else.

Bakugou smirks. “You should have seen your face,” he tells you, struggling to hold in his laughter.

For a second, you consider pushing him into the water and leaving him there, but decide the murder charges wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, you’re too relieved that he isn’t drowning in the ocean to really be mad right now. You’re definitely drawing dicks on his face with markers tonight though. “Don’t do that,” you whine. “Ugh, you’re such an ass sometimes. What was the point of that?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Wanted to piss off four-eyes,” he says, making you roll your eyes again. Of course, that would be it. Barely sparing you a glance, he turns around and starts climbing back up to the otherside of the rock. “Come on, squirt, let’s go home.”

Huffing, you glare at his back, hands curling into fists at your sides. Your eyes widen. “Shit,” you hiss, twisting on your heel to look down at the rocks, searching for a spot of color against the grey stones.

Bakugou pauses at the top of the rock, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” 

“The sea glass!” you tell him, taking a step closer to the water. “I dropped it.” Dammit, you should have left it back with the others, or in the bucket. At the very least, you should have put it in your pocket instead of holding onto it this whole time. You should know better than that.

A groan comes from behind you. “Just leave it,” Bakugou tells you, clearly exasperated with your concern over a stupid piece of glass. “You’ll find more later!”

The nasty look you throw him over your shoulder shuts him up. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t obnoxious,” you remind him, seeing him wince. Yeah, you’ll definitely be holding this over him for a while, you think, watching as he lowers himself onto the rock and sits down, waiting for you. “Plus, it was turquoise glass, Bakugou! That’s not easy to find!” And there, a flash of blue-green on the ground, just inches from being swept away by the waves lapping at the side of the rock. “I see it!” you call over to him, gingerly walking towards the edge.

“Fuck. Fine! Grab your stupid glass and let’s go!”

Not responding, you crouch, reaching for the glass. It’s smooth against your fingers, wet from the water, and you cradle it in your palm again, holding it tightly. A shallow breath leaves you, relief curling outwards from your chest as you rise back to your feet and turn back to Bakugou.

But then something goes wrong. The rocks are too wet from the waves, and you’re too close to the edge, still jittery from Bakugou scaring you. It’s like your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and all you see are Bakugou’s eyes, wide and terrified, before you’re plunged beneath the water.

The rip current grabs you before you can kick your legs or move your arms, and salt water chokes you, rushing down your throat and nose. There’s no time to brace yourself for the impact and hold your breath like Masaki always taught you to. Waves thrash you from all sides, dragging you down. A shadow moves above the water, Bakugou reaching for you, but you’re ripped away before he can plunge his arms in after you. 

It’s too dark to see anything more than shadows beneath the water, and the salt stings your eyes, but you can’t close them. Your lungs burn, threatening to burst as a shrill sound rings through your skull. More saltwater tries to escape down your throat; your vision blurs, spots dancing across your vision, like stars or snowflakes. A strange feeling overtakes you. Weightlessness. And you let it wrap around you like a vice, a fist wrapped around your neck and squeezing. Your fingers unfurl from the fist you’ve made.

Sea glass slips through your grasp, turquoise swallowed up by the ocean before the waves return to devouring you.

Something moves in the water in front of you, a shadow. You follow it with your eyes, a repeating pattern of red and white crossing your vision before disappearing just as quickly. A fish. But it’s too big. Too long. Too warm as it brushes against your bare legs. Fingertips press against your cheek, warm and gone in an instant. There’s someone in the water with you, Bakugou, maybe, or Iida, you can’t tell. 

Before the water can drag you down further, hands grasp at your arm, your waist, your hip, finding purchase where you can’t slip away. Your hair floats around you in dark tendrils from the water, and through the hazy warmth settling around you, you find a pair of eyes staring back at you. Mismatched silver and turquoise would steal your breath if your lungs weren’t already screaming.

You inhale; the darkness swallows you whole.

XXX

You drown. At least, you should.

Pressure builds in your lungs, and you choke on it, wheezing and coughing. You lurch, rolling sideways as seawater burns your throat, and vomit on the sand, water and bile mixed together. Everything tastes like salt, and the raindrops sting your eyes when you try to open them. Pain laces through the back of your skull, and there are hands on your back and face and arms, grasping like they’re afraid you’ll be swept away again. Warm fingers brush against your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your lips. Someone is speaking to you, but the sound is far away and muffled like you’re underwater. 

The hands on your cheeks force your head up, and through red-rimmed eyes you catch sight of your cousin Masaki leaning over you, talking to you before he turns and shouts at someone else. There’s a desperate look in his eyes, but it calms when he looks at you. His chestnut colored hair and blue sweatshirt are soaked through from the rain, and it must be freezing, but he smiles down at you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you faintly hear through the rain and your fogged head. He strokes your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you start to shake and sob. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells you, lips pressed against your temple. “You’re okay.”

Everything blurs together after that. You think you see Ochako standing somewhere behind Masaki, trembling with tears in her eyes as she stands between Midoriya and Kirishima. Midoriya’s hands are shaking, his arms hanging limp at his sides with shock, but Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Ochako, and his mouth is moving like he’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. Iida is behind them. His raincoat is gone. So are his glasses.

Red light flickers across the sand. Blinking on and off.

Your gaze slides sideways and lands on Bakugou, kneeling on Masaki’s other side. He’s shaking like you, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes drenched like he tried to jump in after you. Bloodshot, carmine eyes meet yours, and a shuddering breath tumbles from his mouth. His lips move, repeating the same thing over and over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Warm hands scoop you off the ground, ripping you away from Masaki, and he lets them take you, following on shaking legs. A smooth object slips from between your numb fingers and falls silently onto the sand. Masaki doesn’t notice, right on the heels of the paramedics taking you away. Bakugou does.

The sea glass is bright against the damp ground, a pretty dash of color against the storm.

Heart lurching, he scoops it up, wet sand spilling from between his fingers as he races down the beach to where his car is sitting idle.

XXX

When you wake up again, you’re in an unfamiliar room, beige walls and an open window letting in the sunshine. The panic that wells in your chest is instant, the phantom feeling of saltwater rushing down your throat makes you choke, sputtering, and Masaki’s head snaps up from where he’s been bent over in his chair for hours now. The phone he was holding clatters to the floor, a text unsent. 

He’s slow when he reaches for you, like he’s afraid to touch you, and a wet sound tears from your chest as his hand lands on your upper arm, rubbing gently as you heave, lungs trying to dispel water that isn’t there. The hospital bed dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you, and blindly you reach for his hand, squeezing his fingers between yours once you latch on. His other arm moves from your shoulder, curling around your back, and he pulls you against his chest just like he did last night.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells you, low and soft as his thumb draws circles against your back. “Deep breaths.” The soothing motion of his hand slows your racing heart , tempo slowing to match with his as your breathing evens out. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

And then your eyes begin to wander.

The hospital room is as bare as you expected, but warm, and with Masaki here, it might as well be home. His blue sweatshirt is tossed over the back of the chair he was sitting in. He must not have left last night. Hurriedly, you look away from the old sweatshirt, a heavy feeling settling over you. A bright flash of color catches your eyes, and you latch onto it. Pink and yellow flowers sit idle in a glass vase. You don’t recognize the type, but the sight makes a small smile tug at the edge of your lips. If you had to guess, it was Ochako who sent them. Or maybe Midoriya. 

There’s a plastic bucket sitting on the table next to your bed, beside the flowers. It’s the same one you were using last night. The one you’ve had since you were a kid. Sitting up like this, it’s easy to see inside. The bucket is filled nearly to the brim--sea glass, shells, smooth rocks, things that must have washed ashore after the storm.

Masaki follows your gaze. “Midoriya’s mom dropped off the flowers on her way to work. And Bakugou and Kirishima brought the bucket a little while ago. Thought you’d like to pick through what they found.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. They must have been out there for hours, picking the beach clean before the sun was finished rising. 

You want to ask where they are now, but bite your lip, still staring at the bucket. Masaki seems to understand your silence, and he squeezes you a little bit tighter. “They went to pick up the others,” he tells you, rubbing your back. “They all wanted to be here when you woke up. We were all pretty worried.”

Something inside you snaps at the information. Your hands clench in the back of his shirt, a raw and ragged sound ripping from somewhere deep in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice muffled against his shoulder. Ice churns in your stomach, bubbling uncomfortably inside of you. You could have died last night. Maybe you did. Water that isn’t there sloshes inside your lungs, and your mouth opens with a wet crackling sound. “I shouldn’t have--”

The stern, but surprisingly soft tone that Masaki uses makes you choke up. “Hey,” he coos, leaning back just enough to look at you, dark eyes gentle and familiar. “Don’t apologize to me, okay? Accidents happen. The storm came in faster than you could have known.” 

Silently, you search his eyes, looking for a reprimand, or anger, but there’s nothing there but overwhelming relief, and when Masaki wraps his arm back around you, you fall against him willingly, boneless and gasping for breath. He doesn’t say a word, just lets you cry and shake until the tremors disappear and leave you exhausted and numb. At some point, you close your eyes, sinking into his warm embrace, nose buried against his collar. He smells like saltwater, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The two of you stay like that for a long time, only breaking apart when a doctor comes in to check on you. It could have been worse, is what she tells you. They drained more water from your lungs overnight, and two of your ribs are cracked from the CPR, but there are no other external injuries. A miracle, the doctor tells you, checking your vitals. With the storm, you’re lucky you didn’t hit your head on the rocks. You’ll make a full recovery.

You were lucky to wash ashore where you did. Where Masaki found you as soon as he came tearing down the beach after Iida called him, telling your cousin that you fell into the water and Bakugou couldn’t find you. You were lucky that the rip current didn’t pull you out further into the water like it should have.

You’re lucky to be alive.

After she leaves, you and Masaki sit in silence for a while. He moves back to his chair beside your bed, picks up his phone. You don’t know who he’s texting, but their response pulls a crooked smile out of your cousin, and you match it with one of your own. There’s a slight pain in your chest, and your breaths come in short, wheezing gasps, but that’s normal. It’ll go away.

It isn’t long before your friends arrive, the five of them squeezing into the room together, though you know there’s a visitor limit of two at a time, and Masaki is already here. You’re sure Kirishima and Ochako came up with some excuse to get them all in here, and your smile widens at the thought. Even Iida, always a stickler for the rules, walks stiffly into the room behind everyone else, practically standing guard at the door.

They take turns hugging you, asking how you feel, voices gentle, careful, like you might just crack under their touch. But you don’t. You grip Kirishima back just as tightly as he squeezes you, and the pain in your ribs is worth it. They look worse than you, and you tell them as much. Iida frowns at you from behind a pair of old glasses that are held together with tape, and Kirishima runs his hand through his loose hair, bandana the only thing keeping the red strands out of his eyes.

Bakugou shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His jaw is clenched tightly, his hands curled into fists, and his eyes are still rimmed in red, like he didn’t sleep last night. “Here,” he grumbles, holding out his hand. You hesitate to reach for it, brows knitting together, but your confusion melts away as Bakugou drops a small object into your open palm.

Turquoise sea glass glints beneath the overhead lights, frosted surface smooth against your skin. Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent question, but Bakugou only shoves his hands into his packets and looks away. You brush your thumb against the curved edge, staring down at the piece of glass in wonder. How you still have it is beyond you. It should have been lost in the water. Your hand stills as it reaches the pointed tip of the teardrop, a silver chain winding around your finger.

“Bakugou and I asked Kaibara to drill a hole in it,” Kirishima speaks up from beside him, a sheepish look crossing his features as he rubs the back of his head. “We, uh, we figured maybe you could wear it, y’know? Like a necklace?” 

“Thanks, guys.” You try for a smile, but it comes out watery, a little forced. None of them comment on it. 

Midoriya is quiet when he asks, “How much do you remember?” The question plunges the room into silence, and Bakugou glares at the other boy, bristling, but Ochako is wedged between them, so he settles for clenching his fists and sneering.

“All of it,” you whisper, playing with the sea glass necklace that Bakugou and Kirishima gave to you. You don’t tell them about the turquoise and silver eyes you saw in the water.

XXX

It’s a week before Masaki lets you out of the house alone. You have a check-up at the hospital four days after your near-drowning to make sure your lungs are clear and there’s no infection setting in, and your clean bill of health and pleading gaze reassure him enough to leave you home alone for the day while he goes into work--a paramedic for the local fire department. 

You’re half-asleep on the couch when he leaves. The fractures in your ribs keep you awake, but the pain medication makes you groggy and irritable, so either way, you don’t win. The sun isn’t up yet, and Masaki leans over the back of the couch to tousle your hair and murmur a quiet goodbye, letting you know that Bakugou and Midoriya will be stopping by later in the afternoon to keep you company. He won’t be home until tomorrow morning, a twenty-four hour shift.

The response you give is muffled, slurred, and your eyes slip shut as your cousin’s fluffy cat hops onto the couch beside you, curling up against the backs of your knees. One last squeeze of your shoulder is all you feel before you drift off again, hazy thoughts dragging you under as the front door locks behind him.

You aren’t asleep for long. The cat walks across your side, paws digging into a tender spot between two ribs, and you jolt as an aching pain builds inside your chest. The discomfort makes you wheeze, and you wince, shooing away the whiskers that tickle your cheek. The cat jumps onto the floor, the bell on his collar jingling as he pads across the floor and disappears into the other room.

You roll onto your back, wincing as the motion jostles your bruised ribs. You should probably ice them again. Huffing, you glance towards the kitchen where Masaki’s cat is probably sitting on the counters, knowing you won’t be able to get him down with your current predicament. That’s the last thing you want to deal with right now. You don’t want to be here right now. It’s for your own good. You need to rest and heal.

But you’re tired of lying around at home, having nothing to do but sleep and recover and spend too much time lost in your own head as you try to remember every detail of what happened that night. You can’t forget those eyes no matter how hard you try, and the thought of them makes a slow shiver roll down your spine.

Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

A hallucination, probably. A figment of your imagination summoned by the lack of oxygen in your lungs as it slowly started to affect your brain. And yet.

Your hand drifts to your chest, where the sea glass pendant is resting against the mottled bruises spreading across your skin like an ugly watercolor painting, purple and black in places from hands forcing your lungs to expand, to expel the seawater you swallowed. They’ve started to yellow at the edges already, but it doesn’t make them any less sickening to look at, and you know your friends keep staring at them, a violent reminder of what could have happened. Your thumb drags against the side of the smooth glass. You should have lost it in the water. There’s no possible way it should have washed up on the beach beside you, not during a storm like that, not when you’re so sure that you’d already let it go before the water rushed down your throat.

Even though you know Masaki will be pissed about it later, you grab your phone and house keys off the coffee table and roll off the couch. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you head for the front door. You slip on your sandals, and then you’re gone.

You wind up at the beach. Somehow, that’s where you always end up.

It’s early, and almost eerily quiet. The sun is barely rising over the horizon, bathing the crystalline sea water in golden light and causing the ocean to shift between shades of teal and frothy aquamarine. You’re half-heartedly combing the beach for more sea glass, bare feet sinking into the sand as you search for even the faintest glint of color against the damp ground, following the familiar path you always take across the beach. The tide is low, waves lapping at the shore. And you’re the only one here.

Why the hell did you come here? Your lips curve into a frown as you make your way to the other end of the beach, gaze drifting across the ocean until you catch sight of the rocks leading out into the water. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can picture Bakugou’s back disappearing over the side of the rock, and you follow the same path as you did the week before. 

The rocks are rough beneath your feet, but dry this time, the early morning sun causing the water to evaporate, leaving the surface warm against your skin. The next thing you know, you’re sitting on the edge of the rock, legs stretched out in front of you as you recline back on your hands, eyes on the horizon across the water. It’s quiet out here, the gentle crash of waves the only sound for miles.

You dip your feet into the ocean and flinch, shivers wracking your body as the icy water laps at your toes.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

The sudden voice makes your eyes snap open, panic seizing you when you realize you’ve been caught. Your first thought is Bakugou and Midoriya, but the voice is too deep and too calm. A little dazed, your head lolls to the side, and a striking pair of mismatched eyes lock onto your own. Your breath catches in your throat, your limbs stiffening under the unexpected stare.

There’s a young man in the water, no older than you, and you stare back at him curiously, taking in what little of him you can see above the water. His hair is unusual, red and white split right down the middle, and it looks too soft and smooth for being so wet. There’s a scar covering his left eye, red and angry, but you look right past it, silver and turquoise stealing your attention.

The sea glass pendant in your hand slips between your fingers and bounces off your collarbone. He follows the motion with his eyes, latching onto the dark bruise peaking out just above the neck of your shirt. A grimace twists his mouth before his features become carefully blank.

When you don’t respond, he sighs. “It’s not safe this far out on the rocks,” he says, a flicker of irritation in his gaze. “You could drown.” The edge of his mouth twitches. “Again.”

The single word punches straight through your chest. You flinch, curling in on yourself, and for a second he looks almost apologetic, but the stern glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “How…” You stop yourself, a question on the tip of your tongue. It shouldn’t be real, none of it, and yet your eyes wander down what little of his neck and shoulders you can see, and he’s just out of reach, close enough for you to lean over and touch if you really tried. He stares at you, waiting, but not patiently. “I saw you that night,” you tell him slowly, carefully, just in case this really is a dream or drug induced hallucination. “In the water.”

His head tilts to one side, but he doesn’t deny it.

The lack of response makes your fingers curl against the rock. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. “Thank you.”

His voice is deep and warm when he speaks again. “You’re welcome…” The sentence trails off awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to call the other. 

You sit up slowly, unfurling your legs so that your legs are dangling in the ocean again, deeper this time, the water reaching almost to your knees. The sun is brighter now, the glare from the light making it hard to see beneath the crystal water. All you can make out is a dark mass moving beneath the surface. Not legs. Something else.

He’s busy staring at you too, eyes drifting to your bare legs as his brows furrow, though they snap up to your face when you call out to him. Bemusement creeps into his features. “My name,” you clarify, offering him a small smile.

A clicking sound leaves the back of his throat. “Isn’t that rather informal?” he asks you, eyes narrowing.

The laughter that bubbles up from your throat is high-pitched, almost nervous. Here you are, talking to someone that you suspect isn’t human, and he’s worried about propriety. It’s a wonder you aren’t panicking right now, but it’s not like you weren’t expecting this somewhere in the back of your mind. And the painkillers make everything just a little bit foggy, a little bit easier to digest. “You saved my life. I don’t really care about formality.”

“I see.” And then he repeats your name, slowly, seeming to like the way it rolls off his tongue. He swims a little closer to the rock formation you’re resting on, mindful of your legs. One of his hands rises from the water, gripping the stone just inches from your soft skin. His fingers are long, clawed at the tips, and your breath hitches as they dig into the rock, allowing him to pull himself part way out of the water. “Shouto,” he says. This close, you can see that his teeth are sharp, filed into wicked fangs. “My name,” he adds, something like amusement swimming in the depths of his eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Again, you think, by don’t say. A strange feeling tickles at the base of your spine, but you ignore it,  simply trying to process what’s happening.

Shouto blinks at you, frowning again, and then his gaze slides sideways to the empty beach, expression pensive. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, without thinking. Because why the hell did you come here? Why did you come back to the beach this quickly? To the spot where you slipped and the current dragged you down with violent intentions. Maybe you needed to prove to yourself that you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’re just stubborn. It doesn’t really matter either way.

Your gaze drops to the ocean, and you’re only half surprised by what you find there.

A red mass curls just beneath the water, and something warm and smooth brushes against your leg. Through the gentle rise and fall of the waves, you see what must be his tail: red, white, and black stripes a clear warning for anyone that might dare to cross him. Like the bright patterns of tropical fish, so alluring, masking the danger lurking just below the surface. And he’s no different. Thinner, barbed spines flare in the water behind him, carefully angled away from you, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning. 

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, staring at the pendant around your neck. The sea glass is the same shade of blue as his left eye, and it’s inexplicably warm against your breast. 

The question makes you pause, and your eyes leave the beautiful and deadly display of delicate fins and wicked spines below the water, but he doesn’t clarify any further. Of him? The water? Drowning again? You don’t have an answer. “Should I be?” you counter, eyes finding his once more.

His head snaps away again, back to the beach, and a sound caught halfway between a hiss and a growl slips from his mouth. You follow his eyes, surprised to see a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. The driver side door is thrown open, a head of blond hair lunging out of the front seat.

“You shouldn’t play in the water,” Shouto tells you, and you turn in time to watch him shove away from the rock. He glances at you one last time before twisting around in the water and disappearing beneath the waves.

The next morning, when Masaki comes home, he finds you on the couch where he left you, curled up on your side with his cat sleeping against your stomach and purring. You don’t move at all as he shuts the door, toeing off his shoes before stepping further into the room.

“You awake?” he murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. His hand brushes against your temple, feeling for a temperature, and you jolt at the contact, half-lidded eyes snapping open.

You tilt your head just enough to look at him, looking him over for any cuts or bruises as well. “Yeah.”

Masaki strokes your hair away from your face, and his stern look makes you giggle. He’s never been much of an authority figure for you, not that much older than you are, but he’s always tried his best to take care of you. “Everything okay, yesterday?” he asks. “I missed a call from Midoriya, but it must have been an accident.” His mouth curves down. “I was a little worried,” he admits. “And sorry I didn’t call last night, we were pretty busy.”

“It’s okay. Everything was fine,” you promise, his concern making your heart lurch. “Missed you,” you add, already falling back asleep. Briefly, your thoughts drift to your trip to the beach, and Shouto, but it slips away from you like smoke as he pats your head, and when you wake up again, you know you can’t tell him where you went. It would only make him worry.

XXX

You keep going back to the beach.

Not often, at first. Once a week, at best. It was hard to sneak out when Bakugou and Midoriya began hovering over you, acting like your shadow whenever you left the house. You knew they were only upset and worried. 

Even months later, Bakugou still blames himself for the accident, and though you aren’t afraid of the water, you know that a small part of him is terrified for you. Both boys were in a panic when they found you out on the rocks, and while Midoriya was concerned and understanding, Bakugou was harsh, nearly screaming at you. You can’t blame either of them.

But that doesn’t stop you from going back. It’s easier to slip out before sunrise, after Masaki leaves for work or just before his shift is over. He’s still protective too, watchful, but he trusts you. You talked Bakugou into keeping your first trip to the beach a secret. He wasn’t happy about it, but he caved under your pleading eyes and your promise to owe him a favor in the future.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see Shouto again, sure he would never come back once you realized what he was, or sure that it was a hallucination after all, some figment of your imagination conjured up to process a traumatic situation.

So you were shocked when, two weeks after the first time you really met, he appeared in the water soon after you arrived at the rocks, as if he was already there waiting for you. The conversation was as stilted as the last and about nothing at all. At least, at first. Eventually, he told you how he found you, how the storm pushed him closer to shore than he meant to be. It was only a coincidence that he spotted you in the water, the waves thrashing you around violently. He didn’t have to help you, but he did, grabbing you before the current could rip you away and dragging you back to shore.

One month bleeds into two, and somewhere in between you’ve become friends with Shouto, or, as close to friends as you can be with a creature that isn’t supposed to exist. Neither of you talk about it, but the time you spend together is comfortable, easy. You see him most days, now. Usually in the morning, still, but sometimes you come out at dusk to watch the sunset on the water, liking the way the colors burst across the sky in shades of red and violet. It isn’t often, though. Shouto hasn’t said it aloud, but you know he doesn’t like you walking back to shore at night, when the rocks are slippery and you only have the moonlight to guide you home.

Today is an early morning visit that’s bled into early afternoon. Tourist season is over, and the beach is surprisingly clear for such a nice day. Your conversation with Shouto has lapsed into comfortable silence, with you flipping through an old library book and reclining back against a flat rock further into the water than you usually go.

You flip to the next page, frowning at the crude drawing of a mermaid. Not bothering to read the text, you close the book with a snap. Slowly, you stretch out on the rock you’ve been lying on, sitting up as you set your book aside. Beside you, Shouto cracks open a turquoise eye as he feels you move, tail lazily swishing in the water as he suns himself. His brows furrow when he finds you staring at his hip where the paler skin of his torso melds into the smoother, slippery texture of his lower-half. You’re looking at the bright pattern of his tail with a inquisitive expression he’s never seen before, and his skin begins to feel hot and itchy, like he’s been in the sun for too long.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shifting his arms beneath his head to look at you with both eyes, a small frown tugging at his lips.

Startled, your eyes snap up to meet his, a flush creeping up your neck. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Nothing,” you’re quick to tell him, dismissing the thought that crossed your mind. You haven’t known him long, and you aren’t sure it’s appropriate to ask. Still, you find your mouth moving without permission. “I just…” Shake your head, you loop your arms around your legs and pull them to your chest. You cast another curious glance towards his tail. “Can I…?” 

He’s confused until you gesture with your fingers towards his tail. Shouto tenses, muscles flexing beneath his skin as he eyes you warily, jaw clenched. In the water, his tail flicks, twitching like an irritated cat. Then, he stills, relaxing slowly against the rock. He drops his head back to his folded arms, but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Stay away from the spines,” he tells you firmly, watching as you reach forward, fingers outstretched to touch him. The first brush of your fingertips makes him tense again, and he holds his breath as you ghost your hand from the pale skin over his hip to the jagged pattern of red and white stripes on his tail.

The texture makes you hum, smooth and a bit slippery. There are no scales like you expected, like movies and fairy tales led you to believe, only skin like that of a dolphin or whale. “You’re part lionfish,” you note, tracing one of the red stripes cutting across his tail. “I looked it up,” you add as he glances up at you, one eyebrow quirked towards his hairline. “Are you venomous, too?”

He stiffens again as your fingers move closer to one of the spines jutting from his fins, holding his breath until you move away just as quickly. For a minute, he remains quiet, letting you touch him. “Yes,” he says, voice strained. “But I’m not part fish, technically.”

You glance away from his multi-colored fins to meet his eyes. “So you’re a mammal then?” That makes sense. He’s almost entirely human from the waist up, aside from his teeth and claws, but you’re still stuck on the concept of fish-people. Kirishima would love to be hearing all of this. He’s always been fascinated with mermaids and ocean life. You can only imagine the expression on his face if he found out who you’ve been talking to for the last few weeks, and the thought makes your lips twitch in amusement. 

Shouto misses your smile, eyes locked on your hand as you absentmindedly stroke his flank. “We need to breathe air,” he confirms. “Just not often.” His brows furrow. “Maybe twice per hour if we need to stay submerged, but it doesn’t hurt us to stay above water like this.”

“That makes sense.” You pause over a dark burgundy stripe, wetting your lips. “So why this coloring? Most sea mammals aren’t this brightly colored.”

This time, he shrugs, eyes closing as your blunt fingernail drags against his side. “We all look different. Some of us have spines. Others have tails like sharks, or whales. I don’t know why.” You remain silent, and Shouto cracks open his eyes to look at you again. His tongue slides across his lower lip. “My mother has the fins of a butterfly koi, my father a lionfish.”

Your touch moves to another stripe, white this time. “So you take after him?”

The phrasing makes him frown, but he nods. “I look like him,” he tells you.

“I see. And how venomous are you?” You did some research about lionfish venom. Vomiting. Fever. Convulsions. Temporary paralysis in some unlucky people. Rarely death unless an allergic reaction occurs. It isn’t pretty, but it could certainly be worse.

Unintentionally, your hand wanders back to his hip, where a series of sharp barbs are jutting from his skin.

Shouto grabs your wrist just before your fingers reach the underside of one of his spines. His grip is firm, but gentle, and you shiver when his claws graze the inside of your arm. “I’m a lot bigger than a fish,” is his sharp reminder, and your eyes snap to his. The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to say more, but he only moves your hand to his back instead, inches from his tail. His tail flicks in the water again now that you aren’t near his spines. “What have you been reading?” he asks abruptly, gesturing with his head to the book you set aside.

You pull your hand from his side, twisting around to reach for the book, and don’t see the way his lips curve down. “Some old legends about you,” you explain, shifting so that you’re facing him as you tuck your legs beneath you. “Merpeople, I mean.”

“Oh?” he muses, quirking a brow as he glances from you to the book. “Like what?”

A sly smile crosses your face as you remember one version of the story you read. “Nothing much.” The book’s leather spine is rough against the tip of your finger. “Just that mermen like to come ashore and seduce young women.” Leaning in close to him, you almost burst into giggles at the wide-eyed look he throws you. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Shouto?” you ask him, voice barely above a whisper.

He freezes, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing. The sharp spines on his tail flex, and his claws dig into the rock beneath him. Shouto is completely rigid, puffed up, his eyes wide as his pupils narrow into slits like a cat. For a second, his gaze is almost predatory before it slips into something more akin to alarm. It’s not at all what you were expecting from him.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes a moment later, pupils dilating once more. His tail twitches, his spines returning to a more relaxed position. Shouto takes a deep breath, shaking his head as a giggle finally slips from your mouth. “You shouldn’t do that,” he says, sending you a mock glare, though, he’s unable to hide the upwards tick of his lips.

Laughing, you stretch out your leg, prodding the side of his ribcage with your toes. Shouto seizes your ankle before you can pull away, and this time you feel the sharp points of his claws against you, a playful warning more than a threat. “Well, it’s not true, is it?” you joke to cover the faint hitch in your breathing. The hold he has on you is light and incredibly careful, but your pulse still races at the contact.

The grip he has on your ankle tightens just a fraction. He braces his free hand on the rock, using it for leverage as he rises off the ground, eye-level with you. “What if it was?” he asks, voice lower than usual, deeper. His head tilts to the side, his gaze magnetic as he draws your leg closer to his chest. The palm of his hand creeps towards your calf. Luring you in. 

“Now who’s teasing?” you joke, giggling again, the pitch just a little higher than usual--a little nervous. Shouto must notice, because he snatches his hand away from you like he’s been burned. His claws scrape against the rock as you pull your leg back towards your chest, wetting your lips. “Would you…” you trail off, and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Would you tell me more? About you?”

He shuffles on the rocks, propping himself up with his hands and moving most of his weight to his tail, almost mirroring you. Silently, he opens his mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “What would you like to know?” he eventually asks.

“Everything.” Looking out over the water, your fingers absentmindedly brush against your collarbone before you grab the pendant around your neck. Shouto follows your hand with his eyes, lingering on the space above the low collar of your shirt where your bruises have finally disappeared. It doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

“Okay,” he agrees, watching you caress the sea glass around your throat.

And he does, tell you everything. Bits and pieces about his culture and his family. Shouto explains that there are two types of merfolk, those born like him and those created from seafoam and lost souls, drowned sailors brought back by the sea god Ryujin, a great dragon who controls the tides. He tells you about his mother, a gentle soul that’s as fascinated by those on the land as her son, and his father, who he only mentions in passing, but the curl of his lip says more than he ever could. He has a sister, Fuyumi, and two brothers, Natsuo and Touya, though the latter has been lost for some time. Families travel in pods, sometimes migrating across the oceans, but his has stayed in the area for generations. According to Shouto, there are several families in the nearby waters, though most don’t travel this close to the shore.

He tells you a story about Ryujin. How the sea god controls the tides with a pair of glittering jewels and how one of the gems was cracked, broken fragments swept away by the ocean. His voice is low when he tells you how the merfolk that find these fragments are able to summon the god himself, and are granted a single wish.

You listen intently for what might be hours, only occasionally asking questions, jokingly wondering about the validity of certain fairy tales and myths. His nose wrinkles at the absurdity of most, but some make him pause like when you teased him earlier.

It isn’t until you get a text from Masaki asking when you’ll be home that you realize how long you’ve been there.

XXX

You should have known better than to think you could keep Shouto a secret for long, that your friends wouldn’t notice that you’ve been disappearing for hours at a time. None of them ask about where you go, chalking it up to trauma and processing what happened that night several months ago. They give you space until your ribs are healed and your smile isn’t tight at the edges.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn’t like you going to the beach by yourself. Iida would lecture you on taking proper safety measures if he knew; Bakugou would be pissed. You think Midoriya and Ochako would understand, even if they didn’t like it, and Kirishima would pin you with a puppy-eyed look until you caved and let him come with you. But how can you possibly explain to them that you’ve been going to the beach most days of the week to speak with a merman that saved you from drowning?

They wouldn’t believe you. Hell, you wouldn’t believe you either if you hadn’t been speaking with Shouto for months now. Despite your easy acceptance of merpeople, you have no way of knowing how your friends might react to the information, and that makes you nervous. Besides, it’s not your secret to tell. 

Eventually, sneaking around catches up to you. It’s early in the morning, your conversation with Shouto ending early because of the cars pulling into the lot down the beach. Soon there would be too many people in the water for him to be there without someone noticing him there, and Masaki is coming home from a double-shift and you want to be home to see him, so the two of you say your goodbyes and head off in opposite directions.

You’re just climbing over the last of the sea rocks, your sandals in hand and stupid grin on your face, when someone steps directly in front of you. Your eyes snap up, locking with an angry carmine gaze that makes your heart stop.

“Shit,” you say before you can stop yourself, stomach churning sickly at the glare you’re met with. Your sandals fall onto the sand, but you don’t bother to pick them up. Heart lurching, you don't move from where you’re half-crouched over the rocks, tense and a little nervous. Not because you’re afraid, but because you have no idea how to explain this.

A muscle jumps in Bakugou’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. There’s a hurricane behind his eyes, only tempered by the fact that you’re in front of him, okay, but that doesn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Your cousin called,” he tells you, voice tight with anger--real anger. Or hurt. He’s always loud, always yelling. It’s when he’s quiet like this that you know something is wrong “He came home early. Said he couldn’t find you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You wince. Shit, you left your phone at home this morning. “Bakugou,” you start to say, but stop when he narrows his eyes.

“I lied for you,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He was worried, because you almost died a few months ago, and I told him you were with me, and you’d be home soon.” His hands curl into loose fists. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ here?” he asks, a low growl. “At the same fucking spot where you almost drowned?” When you open your mouth, but don’t respond, Bakugou releases a humorless laugh. “Get in the fucking car,” he demands, gesturing up the beach to where you can see the familiar vehicle waiting. You should have noticed it earlier.

The command makes you bristle, and you glare back at him, a retort already burning on the tip of your tongue, but the look in his eyes makes you feel sick again. Phantom pain laces across your ribs and crawls down your throat, and for a second you feel like you’re drowning all over again. 

Bakugou’s hand trembles as he drops it back to his side, and his breathing is heavier than normal, like he’s about to start crying, but his glare doesn’t soften at all.

You drop down onto the sand in front of him, leaving your sandals on the ground as you start walking across the beach. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou scoop them up, and he stays just a half-step behind you the entire way to the car. The sand is hot in the mid-morning sun and burns your toes, but you don't slow. If he’s going to lecture you, you’d much rather it be in his car than out here.

Climbing into the passenger seat, you keep your gaze locked out the window, refusing to look at your friend as he slides into the driver side. Bakugou closes the door harder than usual, and the sound makes you wince, surprised. Your eyes snap to him without meaning to, but he isn’t looking at you. Staring out the front window, Bakugou’s jaw is clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on the wheel.

Sitting in silence, you wait for him to speak, or yell, or curse you out for making him worry--though he’d never admit it out loud--but the quiet persists to an unnerving degree. You’d expect this from Masaki, or even Iida. Not him. Not Bakugou. The only sound in the car is his slow breathing before he starts the car.

Neither of you speak on the drive back to your house. You have no idea what to tell him, and for once he seems set on keeping his mouth shut. This isn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with before, and that scares you a little. It feels delicate. A time bomb waiting to go off. Bakugou is a hand grenade, and you’ve already pulled the pin.

He parks outside of your house, but doesn’t turn off the car as he waits for you to leave. By the expression on his face, you know he’s not in the mood to talk--the mood to listen--but if you leave this car now, you know this will fester. Rot. And you can’t risk losing your best friend.

“I saw someone,” you blurt, shifting in your seat to face him. You pull your legs onto the seat, tucking them beneath you, and Bakugou’s eyes cut right through you. “That night, in the water,” you clarify, watching the way he stiffens in his seat, “I saw someone.”

His fingers clench around the wheel again as he looks away from you. “Mizushima, don’t--”

“Listen to me,” you snap, not even sure what you’re saying, all you know is that it hurts when he calls you by your last name instead of whatever shitty nickname he’s latched onto this week. “I should have died.” The assertion makes him tense, but you don’t stop there. “You know I should have died.” Your voice cracks on the last word, a lump in your throat. “And we both know the current wouldn’t have pulled me back that way. That’s not how it works. And this?” You grab the necklace you haven’t taken off since he and Kirishima handed it to you. Bakugou looks at you again, glancing at the sea glass that caused you so much trouble and so much joy all at once. “I dropped it in the water. I let go. I remember letting go.”

A part of you is pleading for him to understand, but he can’t. Not if you don’t tell him.

“I just--” You sink back against your seat, turning away from him to stare out the window. “I just needed to go back. I don’t know why--maybe because I was scared or I wanted to prove I wasn’t a fucking coward, but I just did.”

He’s close enough for you to hear him swallow, and beneath the hum of the engine you hear him ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t about you, Katsuki,” you tell him, an edge creeping into your tone. His head snaps up and around again, carmine eyes burning into the side of your face, and you sigh. “I needed to go there for me. And I didn’t need you there because I didn’t blame you for any of it.”

“Well I do,” he snaps, flinching like he didn’t mean to say it, but you’re staring at him now, and it’s too late to take it back. “We found you on the beach and I thought I fucking killed you because I had to act like a fucking asshole.” He cards his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling at the spiky strands. “And then you fucking disappear and Deku and I find you on the goddamn rocks--” He stops abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath.

It clicks then. He isn’t angry. Not really anyway. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him, barely a whisper.

“Who said I was scared, dumbass?” He huffs, and the insult makes you grin, but your expression sobers when he levels you with a firm stare. “You should have told me you were going out on the rocks,” he says. “I would have gone with you.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he looks away again. “Kirishima and Uraraka have been worried about you. How do you think they’d feel if you fucking slipped again and one of us wasn’t around? I don’t give a fuck if you need to think or figure some shit out, tell someone where you are.”

“I know,” you say, just as softly as before. The last thing you wanted was to worry them. “I’m sorry.”

Bakugou sighs and shuts off the car. “And?” he demands, stressing the single word.

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You said you saw someone in the water,” he says with a roll of his eyes, repeating what you told him a minute ago. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Right. It slipped out before you could stop it. You stare back at him, and Bakugou arches an expectant eyebrow. “I need to talk to you,” you tell him. “All of you. And I really need you to believe me.”

Predictably, telling your friends about the merman that saved your life doesn’t go over exceptionally well.

Iida is convinced you need a doctor. You’re almost positive that he would have thrown you over his shoulder and ran for the nearest hospital if Bakugou wasn’t standing beside you like a guard dog. He tells you exactly what you expect to hear, about hallucinations and near death experiences, how sometimes trauma makes people see things that aren’t really there. He’s blunt, but not unkind. Midoriya agrees with Iida, and seems almost apologetic for it, but doesn’t say much else from where he’s sitting cross-legged on your living room floor.

Ochako and Kirishima are slightly more accepting, though you think it’s mainly because they can see you’re getting frustrated, and sometimes that makes it hard for you to breathe.

Bakugou calls you an idiot, but not a liar, and that’s about as much as you expected coming from him.

So, you tell them you can prove it.

XXX

It takes a week for all of you to find a morning in your schedules when you’re free. Most of Iida’s classes are in the morning, and Kirishima works weekends, but you manage to make it work. You all drive down to the beach, the six of you squeezed into Bakugou’s car.

Ochako is still half-asleep when you make it to the beach, the sun barely beginning to rise, and Kirishima piggybacks her across the sand until you reach an achingly familiar set of rocks jutting out into the ocean. None of them look comfortable being here. The six of you have only been back to the beach a handful of times since your accident, and even then, you never got this close to the water.

Maybe they need this as much as you do. To everyone else it was a miracle that the current sent you back to shore, but Shouto? Shouto is real. Tangible. Undeniable proof that you’re okay, that it wasn’t sheer luck that the waves were merciful on you, because they weren’t. Somehow, he makes the situation easier for you to swallow.

“I can’t believe you losers talked me into this,” Bakugou grumbles behind you, as if you’re all still obnoxious teenagers instead of young adults. He’s been in a mood all morning, though you aren’t sure if it’s because he really thinks this is ridiculous, or if he’s nervous being back here. The last time he was near these rocks, he was too angry to think about anything else.

“You wanted me to prove it,” you remind him, glancing at him over your shoulder, eyes narrowing. “So I’m proving it.” They aren’t stopping you now that you’re already here.

Bakugou’s gaze darts to Ochako’s, and she gives him a nearly indiscreet nod, urging him to try again. They know that ganging up on you won’t work, but Bakugou has always had a way of talking sense into you. Unfortunately, that won’t work this time. “Come on,” he drawls, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, expression nothing short of irritated. “This is fucking stupid.”

Another withering glare makes him snort and cross his arms, and you purse your lips. “You said you’d believe me,” you remind him, recalling his promise from that day in the car. Throwing his words back into his face is a low blow, and you know it, but right now you really don’t care.

“That was before you started talking about mermaids and shit,” Bakugou snaps, chest puffing up.

“Merman,” you correct him, knowing it’ll annoy him. The way he grits his teeth is satisfying in itself. “And be nice. I don’t need you scaring him away because you still haven’t figured out how to play well with others.”

Sighing, Iida steps forward. He’s dressed for the beach today, unlike the last time he was here. Aside from the lifesaver tossed over his shoulder, he looks like any other young adult frequenting the beaches in the area. If it was anyone but Iida, you’d think the precaution was mocking, but this is the man that carries a miniature first aid kit in his bag at all times. 

“Mizushima, if this is--”

“It’s not,” you snap at him, a little harsher than intended. The insinuation that this is nothing but a joke or prank is more grating each time one of them suggests it. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t been hallucinating for the last few months, but if I have been, I’m sure Katsuki won’t let me live it down.” You toss him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t you dare call my cousin, Iida!”

You don’t even want to think about how Masaki would react to all of this.

Iida looks like he’s about to say something else, but Kirishima interjects. “Come on, guys, lighten up!” He steps forward and tosses an arm around Bakugou’s neck, pulling the fuming blond down to his height. Bakugou doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t protest either. “So what if it’s just a prank? There’s no harm in her dragging us out here. I mean, it’s not like the rest of us had any plans today.” He offers you a sunny smile that you return with a hesitant one of your own. “Besides, it’s been awhile since we all got to come out here. Gotta say, I kind of missed it!” 

“Thanks, Kiri,” you whisper back, smiling just a bit wider when he throws you a thumbs up. 

His miniature speech only seems to placate Ochako, who links her hands in front of her and gives you a hesitant smile. Iida glances between you and the rocks dubiously, and Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The only one who hasn’t said anything yet is Midoriya, which is unusual. At least he isn’t trying to talk you into leaving like Iida and Bakugou.

Suddenly, Ochako breaks away from the semi-circle your friends have positioned themselves in. She takes two steps toward you, pinning you with a fierce glare, and then her hands smack against either side of your face, squishing your cheeks. “You know this sounds completely crazy, right?” she asks you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, ignoring the curious looks of the boys as they stare at the two of you.

She nods. “And you know I love you anyway, right?”

It’s hard to smile with the way she’s squishing your cheeks, but you manage. “I do.” Ochako has always been your biggest supporter, ever since you were kids. Even if today is an utter disaster, you know she won’t judge you for it--at least, not for too long. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than that.

“Good,” she says, releasing you in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you dare fall in the water,” Ochako tells you. “Kiri can’t hold us both back if you do.” She means her and Bakugou, of course. The pair are certainly a force to be reckoned with, and you know you’ll have hell to pay if anything terrible happens. Ochako may look cute, but she can have a bit of a mean streak.

Either way, you nod, silently promising that everything will be okay. They’re all looking at you with a nervous flicker in their eyes, like they’re expecting you to slip and fall again, and the thought makes your stomach flip. You can almost feel the water rushing into your lungs. The sting of salt in your throat. “Just, wait here,” you say, stepping away from Ochako and swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Give me five minutes.”

“Three,” Bakugou tells you, crossing his arms. Beside him, Midoriya nods his agreement, hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Like hell we’re gonna wait here for that long because you wanna be alone with your fish-man, or whatever.” You roll your eyes. “So get moving. And if you fall in the fucking water again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Midoriya, who had been nodding along with Bakugou, jolts at the threat. “Kacchan!” he yelps, green eyes wide with alarm.

Your lips twitch. “Noted.” Without another word, you twist around on your heel and pull yourself onto the rock, the grooves and sharp edges familiar beneath your bare feet. Your friends begin muttering to each other as you climb over the rock, but you don’t dare glance behind you. It’s still early, so the rocks are still damp beneath you. Though the water isn’t deep here, your skin still crawls at the thought of your head beneath water.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your usual spot further out in the water, just out of sight of the shore. You can’t quite see your friends from here, and for a second that makes you nervous, but you take a deep breath, holding it in as your feet press against the surface of the flat rock the six of you can all sit on comfortably.

Slowly, your eyes scan the water’s surface, searching for a glimpse of red or white as you sink down onto the rock, kneeling just inches from the edge. You wet your lips, leaning forward to peer into the ocean. It’s hard to see anything with the sunlight reflecting on the surface, and you bite your lip as a faint pressure settles around your ribcage.

Maybe this was a mistake. You should have just lied to Bakugou again. That would have been easier than whatever the hell you think you’re doing now. You just had to be stubborn about this, but it would have been so much easier to drop the merman conversation and let them all think it was just some big joke. They’d never let you live it down, but you think you’d take that over the nervous fluttering of your heartbeat.

When the water ripples in front of you and a pair of mismatched eyes meet yours under the water, you feel like you can breathe again. You lean back, and Shouto follows you, head emerging from the water as his clawed fingers dig into the side of the rock, using it for leverage as he pulls his shoulders and chest from the water. A few of his spines breach the surface behind him, bright red beneath the sun, and this close you can see his tail swishing lazily in the water.

“Shouto,” you breathe, a tinge of relief palpable on the syllables of his name as they leave your tongue.

He shakes his head, splattering you with saltwater from his hair, and peers at you through his bangs, looking a cross between bored and annoyed. “You’re late,” he tells you, lips curved downward at the edges in a look you’ve grown familiar with in the months that you’ve known him. “You said you’d be here for the sunrise.”

A nervous giggle escapes you, and you open your mouth to tell him that getting your friends anywhere is like herding cats--Ochako is always half asleep, and Bakugou is uncooperative; Iida is the only one prepared on time, but his lectures inevitably make him late anyway--but what slips out instead is a painfully soft, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

He’d been apprehensive when you asked if he would meet your friends, something you couldn’t blame him for. Already, you’re privy to information you shouldn’t be. There’s a reason merfolk aren’t known to the world, and if the wrong person knew about him, it could be disastrous. But these are your friends, and you know they’d never do anything to hurt you or Shouto like that. Even still, you were hesitant to even ask him to show himself, though he was the one to first approach you. 

Somewhere, in a small, quiet part of your heart, you were so sure that he wouldn’t be here waiting for you today.

The admission makes Shouto’s eyes widen. His pupils shrink into catlike slits, before dilating once more, and the spines lining the vertebrae of his tail flare slightly. His tail flicks back, creating a small wave in the water. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly. “I said I would.”

“I know,” you murmur back, shifting enough to slip your legs into the water. Shouto moves with you, perfectly in tune as his eyes follow every subtle shift in your expression. “I just…” He continues to stare as you trail off, and your fingers find the sea glass around your neck. It’s warm beneath your touch. The pressure in your chest loosens as the weight of it presses against your palm. “Are you sure this is okay?” You stress the question, searching his gaze for any hint of refusal or discomfort. 

There’s still enough time for him to turn and disappear back into the water. You have another minute until your friends follow you, and if he wants to go, you’ll let him. Damn the consequences. You’d rather look like a fool than do something you can’t take back. 

But Shouto snorts, pulling himself closer to the rocks, closer to you. His right hand reaches for you, and you shiver as his claws ghost across your skin just above the edge of the water. The heat of his palm sinks into you. When you sigh, he pulls you closer. “They’re your friends.” It’s a reminder instead of an answer to the question, which would be frustrating if he were anyone else. “I trust you,” Shouto adds, softer than before, the low, comforting tone of his voice causing heat to spread through your limbs.

The pad of his thumb rubs against the side of your leg.

“What the fuck?” a deep voice growls from behind you, startling you both.

Shouto rips his hand away from your leg, going rigid as the spines on the back of his tail flare again. His pupils narrow into slits, and his lips curve back over his teeth in a warning as a hissing sound escapes him. His muscles coil, prepared to strike, and your head whips around to meet wide carmine eyes, Bakugou staring at you and Shouto in disbelief. His mouth moves soundlessly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless by something before, and if the situation was different, you would probably laugh.

The rest of your friends are behind him, expressions varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

You’re quick to reach for Shouto, the merman still growling from the water. The sound breaks off as soon as your fingers brush against his shoulder. His gaze snaps to you, checking to make sure you’re okay before his narrowed eyes slide back to Bakugou, his tail lashing almost violently through the water.

The silence doesn’t last for long. Bakugou glances wildly between you and Shouto, gaze questioning, before he finally settles on the very real, very annoyed merman. “The fuck is this?” he snaps, voice rising in pitch.

Another irritated flick of Shouto’s tail sends droplets of water raining down on the rock. “You must be Bakugou,” Shouto muses, expression carefully blank as he looks over your friend, sizing him up. Snorting, he turns back to you, relaxed and almost bored. “You were right,” he murmurs, just loud enough for everyone else to hear. “He is obnoxious.”

Bakugou’s face twists in rage, and behind him Ochako bursts into a fit of nervous giggles as she continues to stare at Shouto. Kirishima reaches out slowly, one hand grabbing Ochako’s as the other grabs onto the back of Bakugou’s shirt. Beside him, Midoriya is openly gaping at Shouto. You can practically see the thoughts churning through his head as he stares at the merman in wonder. 

Surprisingly, it’s Iida that recovers the fastest. He steps forward, moving around the others, and squints behind his glasses. “Mizushima, what is this?” he asks, repeating Bakugou’s earlier question as his mouth presses into a tight line. Iida has always been a logical man; this isn’t something he knows how to process.

Shouto’s tail twitches again. His eyes slide to Iida’s. “Shouto,” he states, then glances at you. His lips quirk at the edges as he clarifies, “My name,” just like when he first met you. Iida stares. So do the rest. And then--

“Yo, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet ya, man,” the boy introduces himself, releasing Ochako and Bakugou to walk to the edge of the rock and plop down cross-legged beside you. He grins at Shouto and reaches over to pat you on the back. “Thanks for saving our girl here, we owe ya one!”

You sigh, leaning into Kirishima’s touch. Thank god you brought him here today. His easy acceptance is infectious, and your other friends start to relax as soon as the good natured man offers Shouto a wide smile. It might just be the biology student in Kirishima making him so readily accepting of merpeople, but you’re grateful either way.

“Of course,” is Shouto’s quiet response. His brows furrow a little, like he can’t understand why Kirishima is thanking him for not letting you drown, but he doesn’t comment on it any further.

Iida jolts suddenly, his eyes widening in horror. “Where are my manors?” he sputters, walking stiffly to the edge of the water. He crouches on your other side, one stiff arm shooting out towards Shouto. The merman flinches at the sudden movement. “I’m Tenya Iida. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

Shouto stares at the offered hand, then glances at you. You lift one hand to your mouth to smother your amusement, and Shouto seems to decide Iida’s actions are harmless. Ignoring the handshake, he turns to your unnamed friends. “I suppose that makes you Uraraka and Midoriya,” he guesses, looking between the pair.

Ochako smiles shyly, nodding, and Midoriya looks like he might burst with excitement. He quickly takes Iida’s place as the taller boy steps back, a disgruntled expression on his face that makes you bite back more laughter. 

“That’s right! Oh, man, when Mizushima told us about you, I thought--but wow, you are real!” Midoriya gushes, nearly slipping into the water in his hurry to reach said real merperson. You’re entirely unsurprised when he yanks off his backpack, digging out a notebook and a pen as Shouto stares quizzically. “Hold on, I have so many questions. Are you part fish? Can you breathe underwater? Are there other species of supernatural creatures that actually exist, or are merpeople an outlier. I--”

Ochako slaps her hand over his mouth from behind, cutting him off before he can ramble further. Her smile is warm. “Sorry about him, he gets excited sometimes.”

Things fall into place rather easily after that. Your friends are cautious, but friendly as they speak with Shouto, who calmly and carefully answers their many questions. He lets Midoriya examine his spines, but shifts away from a curious hand, and seems to enjoy a conversation with Kirishima about jellyfish. Even Iida joins the conversation after his shock wears off. Bakugou is the only one that doesn’t speak the entire time you’re here, standing as far away from Shouto and the edge of the rock as he possibly can, glaring.

You stay until the sun rises with the afternoon, and cars begin to pull into the parking lot across the beach, your friends murmuring their goodbyes as they gather their things and begin the careful trek back to the sand, excited chattering left in their wake. Bakugou lingers. So do you.

Once he’s sure the others are far enough away, Bakugou stalks to the edge of the rock, crouching and getting in Shouto’s face. The merman doesn’t flinch, standing his ground. “Hey, half-and-half,” Bakugou growls, lowering his voice so that you can’t hear. “Thanks.” He gestures to his chin towards you, and understanding passes between them. When Shouto gives a nearly imperceptible nod, Bakugou rises back to his feet and reaches over to tousle your hair until you swat at him. “See ya on the shore, squirt.”

“I like them,” Shouto tells you after Bakugou is gone. “They seem… nice.”

You stare at the beach, though you can’t see your friends from where you’re sitting. “Thank you,” you whisper, drawing shouto’s attention. “For doing this. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

He only blinks, head tilting slightly to one side. “You asked me to,” he says, like it’s that simple.

XXX

It’s later that same week when you find yourself back on the rock, the beach strangely empty at midday. There are dark clouds off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon, but the sun is still shining brightly at the moment. There’s a storm coming. The thought should make you nervous, but you’ve never felt anything but inexplicably safe here with Shouto in the water beside you, making lazy circles a few feet from where you’re sitting on the edge with your legs tucked beneath you.

You pull your gaze from the far off storm clouds, turning to Shouto instead, but he’s deep in thought, floating on his back with his tail fins occasionally peeking out of the water. Slowly, your eyes wander across him, taking in the pattern of his tail, the sharp spines you’re careful to stay away from, before moving up his torso to the lean muscle and broad shoulders you always seem to catch yourself staring at. He’s fit, but you reason that he’d have to be to live in the water like he does. Traveling over his neck and strong jaw, you find yourself lingering on his mismatched eyes, the two tones clashing, and the red and raw skin covering the upper left side of his face.

You’ve never asked about the scar. You’ve never had the heart or the stomach to question what could have left what looks like a terrible burn. 

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until the deep timber of his voice pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Does it bother you?” he asks, watching you from where he’s begun treading water just off the edge of the rocks.

Gaze snapping from the vibrant scar covering the side of his face to his eyes, you’re taken aback by the cacophony of emotions flickering in the depths of them. Not shy, but uncomfortable. Perhaps anxious.

It only takes a second for you to realize he’s asking about his scar, and the question makes your chest ache for him. “No,” you answer honestly. “Why would it?”

“It’s ugly,” he tells you, like he’s said it before. Shouto’s tone is bland, empty, like he doesn’t care, but he can’t hide the tightness around his eyes, the hurt. “My mother. She… was unwell.” He’s quiet for several seconds, unsure of how to phrase it, and you wonder if he’s ever told anyone before. “She hated my left side, but it wasn’t her fault.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall him saying he looks like his father, and something clicks, but you don’t want to push it. “I’m sorry,” you say instead, wincing when the words leave your mouth.

The right corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile. “Me too.”

Absentmindedly, you grasp the pendant around your neck. “It’s part of you, Shouto,” you tell him, so softly that he almost can’t hear you over the sound of the water, but he’s attune to your voice after so many months. He could recognize it anywhere. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The conversation lulls into nothing, and you search for something to fill the silence when it becomes clear that he won’t.

The silver chain you always wear curls around your finger, the sea glass thumping against your collarbone with every twirl of your hand. His eyes follow the motion, entranced by the steady rhythm, heartbeat echoing the sound. You stop suddenly, the turquoise glass brushing against your knuckles. For a moment, neither of you move, and even the ocean seems to hold its breath, waiting for you to speak. “I never asked,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear over the sound of his own pulse. “But you saved this too, didn’t you?”

Your fingers trace the edge of the teardrop shape, and your eyes rise to meet his, lingering on the jewel-tone of his left side before sliding to the silver of his right.

He nods, edging closer until his claws are buried in the rocks and his delicate fins are pressed against the surface below the water. “I saw you drop it, just before you blacked out, and it was… shining in the water.” You frown, but don’t question it. The water was too dark and murky for you to see that night, but he was born for those depths, able to see what you can’t. “I thought you’d want it back if--” he cuts himself off with a sharp, angry breath and can’t bring himself to finish. Shouto clears his throat. “Besides, sea glass brings luck.”

That makes you pause again. Your brows furrow as you stare at him. “What?”

He shakes his head, waving off your questioning look. “Nothing,” he says. “Just old superstitions.” His tail brushes against the rocks again. “My mother used to tell me that when humans fall into the ocean holding something, it’s usually important to them. She was right.” He gestures to sea glass in your hand, how carefully you’re cradling it. Shouto has never seen you without it, and you keep it close to your heart like something precious.

“Maybe,” you muse, a wry smile pulling at your lips as you draw your knees to your chest, letting the pendant fall back to your chest with a dull thump that only you can hear. “I don’t know if it was that important until after. I probably should have just left it on the beach.”

Shouto pauses, pulling himself a little further out of the water. “What do you mean?”

The far off tone of your voice doesn’t disappear as you say, “I just found it before…” and trail off into nothing. As if just remembering that he’s there, you shift in place, rolling onto your knees and settling your weight onto one hip, using one hand to prop yourself up. “I collect sea glass,” you tell him, realizing the topic has never come up before. “And I’d never seen one this color before.” Shouto nods slowly, silently motioning for you to continue. After a second, you do. “When my parents… left, Masaki used to take me here all the time. Usually after storms. And we’d search the beach for glass or sea shells. Whatever we could find. Then I started coming with my friends, and I guess we never stopped.”

He’s quiet for a long time, attention stolen by the breeze as it ruffles your hair, causing strands to tickle your cheek. “I’m glad,” he says eventually, almost too quiet to hear.

And suddenly you’re close, closer than you’ve ever been before. Your hands leave the rock and hesitate before one settles on his shoulder. Shouto is stiff beneath your gentle touch, claws digging into the rock as his muscles tense. The scent of your skin wraps around him, gripping him like a vice, but it’s different. Unfamiliar. You don’t smell like him--like saltwater.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear in a way that has a lick of heat arching up his back. His spines flex in the water, tail jerking suddenly, and you’re so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the damp curve of his jaw. “For saving this, too.” A subtle shift has your lips brushing against the edge of his scar beneath his eye, your breath nervous against the side of his face.

The quickening of your heartbeat makes his own pulse spike. Shouto’s tongue dips out to run across his bottom lip. His silence makes your fingers flex around his shoulder, but before you can release him, he pries one of his hands from the rock. The threat of sharp claws against the back of your neck makes your breath hitch, but he’s nothing but gentle with you. 

“Anytime,” he murmurs back to you, pressing his cheek to yours. The pendant you’re wearing glances off his collarbone, the sea glass warm to the touch.

XXX

“So,” Kirishima muses as the two of you make your way through the supermarket, a basket swinging between you as he grabs various snacks off the shelves, “there are two kinds of mer… people?” He glances down at you for confirmation. Even though you’re all adults now, your friends still get together weekly for movie nights and video games, destressing from school and staying close now that the new semester has started.

You nod slowly, trying to decide between two different brands of candy. “That’s what Shou told me,” you say, offering the candy for him to choose. Kirishima sticks both in the basket, and you roll your eyes. 

He’s been asking you questions about merpeople for the last few weeks since you introduced your friends to Shouto, and his enthusiasm is kind of endearing. They’ve been coming down to the beach with you most mornings now, usually only one or two at a time, which you’ve been grateful for. It’s taken Shouto a while to warm up to them, but he seems to get along well with your friends, especially Midoriya and Iida, though he appears to take some satisfaction in trading quips with Bakugou, who mostly just glares and grumbles under his breath.

“He said there are those born normally, like him, and the ones that are reborn. Drowning victims brought back by Ryujin,” you continue when Kiri looks at you expectantly.

Kirishima nods, accepting the existence of a sea god without so much as a second glance.

And then his steps falter. He nearly drops the basket as his eyebrows furrow in thought. Red eyes peer down at you, and his mouth opens and then closes again. Kirishima clears his throat, a bizarre look on his face. “By normal do you mean, like, hatched?” he asks. “Like, out of an egg?”

You frown, bemused by the unexpected question. Of all the things he could have asked you, that certainly wasn’t one you would have expected. Though, maybe you should have. It was only a matter of time before the biology major in him rose to the surface. “They’re mammals, Kiri, they don’t lay eggs,” you remind him after a moment of stunned silence.

“They could be like a platypus,” he says, turning down the next aisle. An older man sends him an odd look, but Kirishima only grins when the man catches his eye. 

You shake your head, grabbing the basket from him. “I’m almost positive they aren’t,” you say, lips twitching in amused exasperation. “And why do you care about the logistics of their birth anyway?”

He shrugs. “I’m just curious. Aren’t you?”

“About merfolk reproduction?” you clarify. “Not really.” Honestly, you haven’t thought about it. The fact that merpeople can spring into existence through the divine powers of a sea god was curious, sure, but for all you know merpeople like Shouto could be born the same way. You hadn’t thought to ask for clarification, and, frankly, you aren’t sure you want any. That’s not a question you feel comfortable asking your friend.

Kirishima rubs the back of his head and straightens his headband. “Really? I thought--nevermind.” Whatever he was about to say makes his eyes widen, and he clams up, a faint blush spreading from his cheeks to the roots of his hair like an awful sunburn.

You stop walking, looking at him out of the corner of your eye as you grab Ochako’s favorite snack off the shelf. “What?” He shakes his head, avoiding your eyes as he shuffles uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Thought what, Kiri?” Huffing, you prop your hands up on your hips, lips pressed into a thin line as you stare him down. 

It works; it always does. Even Bakugou usually gives in with a fierce enough look, and Kirishima is much more agreeable than his explosive best friend.

“I just thought it was something you might need to know,” he admits, voice a little bit softer than before, “considering, y’know? I’d say he’s pretty interested.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting. Your lips part in shock, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth, and you gape at him like a fish out of water for a solid seven seconds. “Excuse me?” you finally sputter out. Your skin feels itchy and hot all of a sudden, and the way your pulse quickens is nothing short of embarrassing.

“What?” Kirishima’s head tilts to the side cutely. “I’m just saying. Merman doesn’t doesn’t take his eyes off you whenever you’re around. Even when you and Ochako went for a walk on the beach the other day, he was still watching to make sure you were okay.” You frown, and he holds up his hands placatingly. “Not that there’s a problem with that! He seems protective, and that’s pretty manly!” You still don’t say anything. Kirishima’s brows furrow as he tries to explain it. “It’s like he swallows you with his eyes and doesn’t leave anything for the rest of us.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, processing the new information buzzing through your head. Does Shouto stare at you? You aren’t blind. You know he likes to keep an eye on you when you’re walking around on the rocks. It’s not like you can blame him, when you only met because you slipped and nearly drowned. But on the beach too? 

The thought leaves a pleasantly warm feeling bubbling in your stomach, but you shove the feeling away, choosing not to think too hard about it. It’s probably only because you’re familiar. 

You wet your lips. “Have you been reading internet poetry again?”

Kirishima blushes deeper. “Yes,” he admits. “Sero’s been sending me some, but that’s not the point.” He takes the basket from you when you roll your eyes. “The point is, don’t you want to know what goes on if you ever try to… you know.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands that you never want to see again. “Like, what if it is eggs?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking,” you whine, turning on your heel to walk away from him. This is not what you wanted to be thinking about tonight. “They don’t lay eggs.”

Kirishima is right behind you. “So you’re saying it’s sperm then? Do you think that’s why the ocean is so salty?” It’s obvious he’s joking now, just trying to get a reaction out of you--or maybe the biology nerd in him is just coming out full force. Either way, you want no part in this conversation.

“You’re disgusting.”

A laugh slips out of his mouth. He grabs your wrist before you can storm off and yanks you against his side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” he says, cracking up harder. You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” he says again once his laughter subsides, much more sincere this time. His arm squeezes around you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” you murmur, giving in to his embrace. It’s hard to resist a hug from Kirishima. “Now never talk to me about merperson sex ever again.” You don’t want to think about Shouto’s hypothetical merman penis while raiding a grocery store for snacks.

“Okay,” he agrees, leading you through the store towards the check-out. And then-- “Since you're so sure it’s not eggs, do you think it’s more like a dolphin?”

You throw his arm away from you. “Is this a kink, Kiri?” you ask him. “Are you into merpeople now?” You almost ask if he wants you to fuck Shouto, or if he’d rather do it himself, but bite your tongue at the last second. “I’m telling Bakugou and Ochako that this is what you think about.”

A sharp pinch to your side makes you squeal, and Kirishima chuckles as you swat at him in return.

You don’t think about the conversation again until later that night. You end up squished onto the couch between Kirishima and Ochako, and all of you are half asleep as you idly listen to Bakugou and Iida argue about what movie to watch next--some explosive action movie or a documentary, respectively--while Midoriya mediates, and you’re thoughts take a sudden sharp turn. 

It’s Kirishima’s fault for putting the thought in your head, and you jerk fully awake, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you. Your pulse jumps, skin itchy and hot at the thought of Shouto’s mouth and hands on you. Shuddering, you squeeze your thighs together. Imagining the weight of him against you makes heat pool in your lower belly. Your mouth feels dry. 

It’s an impossibility. He isn’t interested; you shouldn’t be.

Noticing you’re awake, the boys arguing on the floor pause to look at you. “What’s with that stupid look?” Bakugou asks, narrowing his eyes. For once, you’re grateful that he’s an asshole most of the time. It gives you something to think about that isn’t your merman friend’s biological functions.

“Mizushima, what’s your opinion on the films?” Iida questions.

You glance at the television and blanch. “Please, don’t make me watch Blue Planet, or whatever it’s called, right now, Iida.”

Beside you, Kirishima shakes with muffled laughter.

XXX

Sea glass glitters in the sun beside you, colors ranging from off-white to orange to deep blues and greens that you’ve rarely ever seen before. You’ve gathered a small handful since telling Shouto about your collection. It isn’t every day, but some mornings he’ll hand you bits and pieces of weathered glass that he’s found in the open water. He’s careful to gauge your expression, watching the way your eyes light up with a hesitance that melts into satisfaction when you smile, pleased with himself.

Your toes dip into the gentle lull of the waves when he isn’t looking, his stare far off, brows furrowed like he’s thinking hard about something. “Shouto,” you call to him, barely audible over the rhythmic crash of the ocean against the rocks; he hears you, gaze snapping sideways to meet yours, and the jewel-tone of his left eye makes your heart lurch. The questioning stare he pins you with is replaced with shock as you flick water at him.

His disgruntled expression makes you giggle, but he doesn’t wipe away the droplets of saltwater that slide down his cheek and jaw before dripping back into the ocean. The sunlight makes his skin shimmer, and the teasing line of water that rolls down the side of his neck is nothing short of distracting.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, brushing the stay thought from your mind. He’s been oddly distracted today, staying a little further away from the rocks than usual, a deep furrow to his brow that usually isn’t there anymore. You roll a piece of sea glass between your fingers, a few shades paler than his blue eye and the pendant you’ve worn around your neck for what feels like years now. 

“You.”

The blunt response makes your head snap up. Suddenly, he’s closer than he has been all morning.

The palm of his hand cups your calf, his long fingers wrapping gently around your leg as he tugs you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to prick you with his clawed fingertips. Shouto is warm despite the seawater, and you shiver as droplets roll down your skin in little streams, leaving behind trails of salt. His grip is loose at first, but tightens when you don’t pull away.

Shouto stares up at you from the water, and the hand that isn’t gripping your leg presses against the rocks beside your thigh, using the leverage to pull himself part way out of the water. It’s still too far away, but the distance makes your breath catch as he leans in just an inch. “You look beautiful in the sunlight.” He says it like it’s a fact, something you should already know, and your lips part in shock.

The wicked look that flickers in his eyes cuts off any response you might have had, and then he shoves himself away from you, just like the first time you met. He rolls backwards in the water once he’s a safe distance away, mindful of the sharp spines protruding from his fins. The tip of his tail flicks up and out of the water, and you squeal as he splatters you with seawater.

“Dick,” you call out as soon as he resurfaces, making Shouto chuckle as he swims back towards the rock you’re perched on. His palm finds its way back to your leg, fingers slotting around you like it’s natural, and you press your leg into his touch, liking the rough scrape of his skin against yours. “What are you really thinking about?”

“You,” he says again, but his amusement dims and his eyes narrow again, catlike slits. “It’s not safe for you to come out this far when you can’t swim.” He glances at the ocean surrounding him and grimaces. 

A frown pulls at your own lips, confusion surging through you at the unexpected discussion. In all the months that you’ve known him, you wonder why it took this long for the question to come up, and why he seems so concerned. “I can swim,” you tell him, a little laugh slipping from your lips. His lips turn down and his head tilts to the side, and you huff, half-heartedly flicking more water towards him. “Maybe not as well as you, but not all of us were born in the water like you, Shou.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would you think I can’t swim?”

The answer is probably obvious, in hindsight, but it still startles you when he says, “You never come in the water.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. There’s a denial on the tip of your tongue, but it sticks there, refusing to be spoken. Because he’s right. In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never done more than dip your legs into the water, and that’s only when he’s nearby. When he’s not, you rarely leave the safety of the sand. It hits you like a blow to the ribs. Phantom pain laces across your chest, and your breath hitches, so subtle that Shouto wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t so close.

A bitter thought crosses your mind. You only met him because you came out to the rocks to prove to yourself that you weren’t a coward, but it was never the rocks that scared you, was it?

Not liking the train of thought, you force a smile and try to ignore the feeling of your lungs filling up with water. “I don’t like to get my hair wet in the morning. Not all of us are naturally resistant to salt.” You brush a strand of red hair away from his eyes, the texture silky.

But Shouto isn’t convinced. “Even when you’re here with your friends, you’re always sitting in the sand,” he says, slowly, gauging your reaction to the observation. “I just thought--” And he cuts off quickly, seeming to realize what you already have.

“I can swim,” you tell him again, not as confident this time.

The way your voice trembles is answer enough for his next question, but Shouto asks it anyway, blunt and unapologetic. “Are you afraid?”

You’re silent for a long time, and Shouto squeezes your calf. “I don’t know,” is your whispered confession.

His thumb strokes the side of your leg, so, so careful as his claws slide across your delicate skin. “Do you…” The way he trails off makes you look at him, and Shouto wets his lips, eyes searching yours almost desperately. “Will you trust me?”

What he’s really asking makes you tense. The water is suddenly freezing around your legs, and your hand grasps the sea glass dangling against your chest. “What if the current pulls me under again?”

“It won’t.” I won’t let it, he doesn’t say out loud, but you hear it anyway.

You’re slow to answer, searching his gaze in return. Finding what you’re looking for, you murmur, “Okay.” 

Shouto stays close to the rock as you pull your legs from the water and stand. You reach for your clothes, hesitating, but under his patient gaze you peel your shirt over your head, dropping it to the dry surface behind you. Your shorts follow, leaving you more naked than you’ve been in months. You’re so busy staring at the waves that you don’t see the greedy way his eyes take you in, drinking in the sight of your bare skin until he reaches your face and his expression softens completely. You really do look beautiful in the sunlight.

When you sit back on the edge of the rock, legs once again dangling in the water, you tense, heart in your throat as your pulse spikes. You almost pull away, but Shouto’s hand on your leg stops you. His palm slides over your knee, your thigh, and his clawed fingers curl around your hip. There’s no push or pull to his touch, he just holds you there, waiting for you to make the choice.

A shudder runs through you as you shift your hips, slowly sinking down in the water. It swallows you up, cold water rushing around your legs until it reaches your waist. Shouto never lets you go, and his hand is warm and steadying against your side, holding back the flood of panic threatening to choke your lungs.

“Watch your feet,” he murmurs, angling his tail away from your vulnerable skin.

The water reaches your chest, and suddenly the ocean is calm around you, the ebb and flow of the currents seeming to disappear as your arms wrap around Shouto’s neck, trusting him to hold you up. Neither of you move, floating mere feet away from the rocks. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst, but the gentle roll of the waves lull you.

You shiver from the cold, but Shouto is warm against your front, and you lean into his chest, tucking your head against his neck and letting the saltwater scent of him wrap around you. Being in the water again is like coming home, and for the first time since since you nearly drowned a sense of peace washes over you.

“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your temple as he feels you relax. He pulls you tighter against his chest, one strong arm banded around your waist. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, helping you tuck yourself beneath his chin. It causes the water to lap at your lower jaw, but Shouto chases away your fear with a gentle hand and quiet praise.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, but eventually your eyes slip shut, and your breathing evens out. Shouto nuzzles against your hair, a quiet purring sound rumbling deep in his chest, the vibrations soothing you. “Good?” he murmurs, breath hot against your exposed ear.

You nod, half-asleep, and it’s hard to pull yourself from the curve of his shoulder and neck, but you want to see his eyes. Shouto’s nose bumps against yours as he tilts his chin to look at you, surprised by your movement, and he tenses, eyes locked with yours and lips a breath away. “Thank you,” you murmur, almost able to taste the salt on his skin.

His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he leans down an inch, just to press his forehead to yours. Shouto’s claws flex against the back of your neck, almost nervous, and he looks at you like he wants to speak, but only nods. 

His lips brush against your hairline as he tucks you safely back beneath his chin.

XXX

It’s nearly midnight when you make your way down to the beach, the full moon shining overhead, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. Masaki is gone for the night, and your house was too quiet, too lonely for you to stay in, unable to fall asleep. And your first thought was Shouto. You have no way of knowing if he’ll be here tonight. You never meet this late, and yet you find yourself searching for him regardless.

A large part of you felt like you needed to be here tonight, an inexplicable urge to see him overtaking you, though you already saw him once today, early in the morning. He seemed agitated then, pacing in the water more than usual, his tone gruff and snappish. You didn’t ask why, and he seemed to calm down quickly enough once you slipped into the water beside him.

Shouto practically wrapped himself around you when you did, purring as he rubbed his cheek against yours and pulled you close to his chest. Even his tail brushed against you more than usual, almost like he was trying to coax you to play.

You set his odd behavior aside as you settle into your usual spot on the rocks, legs slipping into the water on the flat of the stone, a sheer cliff disappearing into the water for twenty feet until it reaches the bottom. The hem of your dress flirts with the surface of the water, but you don’t pay it a second thought. The seawater will wash out.

“Shouto?” you call out across the waves, a distant splash causing your head to snap up. Your legs become still in the water, eyes searching for him, but the sea breeze and waves are the only sound, and you must have imagined it. Leaning back on your hands, you sigh, staring up at the moon. Pale light reflects off the water, the moon’s reflection far off on the horizon.

You shriek as something grabs you beneath the water, lashing out with your legs. Clawed fingers wrap around your legs, pinning them against the rocks. You choke on a gasp, eyes wide, but your heart slows when you see a familiar head breach the surface of the water. “Dammit, Shouto,” you breathe, giggling lightly as you shake your head. “You scared me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him, the moon so full and bright that you’re able to see him perfectly, despite the dark.

Your breath catches when you really look at the merman. For the first time since you met him, he looks utterly inhuman, and the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest. His pupils are slits, silver and turquoise swallowing the black until his eyes appear bottomless, so easy to drown in. Lips curved back over his sharp teeth, there's a flicker of hunger in his eyes as they settle on you. Something feral and wanting.

“You shouldn’t be in the water tonight, love,” he tells you, voice lower than usual, deeper, almost a growl. The shock of it rumbles through you; it makes you shiver. His claws drag against the soft skin of your leg, curling around you, and for the first time you feel the threatening prick of them. The hint of danger slams the breath from your lungs, and your heart pounds against your ribs as his hand slowly moves higher.

Taken aback by his touch, you do nothing to stop him. “Have you,” you cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he nudges your legs apart. “Have you been here all afternoon?” You weren’t expecting this when you came down here tonight, and the way he’s touching you is making it hard to think. He’s never acted like this before. At least not around you. And it’s throwing you for a loop.

He shakes his head, claws digging into the rock. The hand curled just beneath your knee tugs you forward. You yelp, slipping down the side until you’re balanced precariously on the edge, your fingers digging into the rock to hold yourself up as he pulls your legs apart. “I could smell you,” he murmurs, purring as his mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your scent. 

It should be embarrassing, but the way his tongue laves attention to your thigh has heat pooling in your belly. Your breathing quickens, and with one shaky hand you reach out, holding onto his shoulder for balance as wicked, sharp teeth nip at you. Your hips lurch, and Shouto’s claws dig into your thigh, not enough to hurt you, but the minor jolt of pain makes you whimper. The hem of your dress is drenched in seawater, and the fabric slides wetly over the tops of your thighs as Shouto shoves the fabric upward, giving himself more access to your sinfully smooth skin.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he presses slow, wet kisses across the inside of your thigh, mouth wandering, tasting you. “Shouto,” you gasp as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to you as your leg dangles down his back, seawater dripping from your skin to his. Mewling, you arch into his touch as his tongue drags across the crease between your thigh and your core. He mouths at you, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your sensitive skin makes you jolt. “Shouto,” you call his name again, “what are you doing?”

A pointless question when his head is buried between your thighs, his teeth and tongue running along your soft skin, tasting and touching as he drags quiet sounds from your mouth.

Your hips jerk, a keening cry escaping you as his teeth press down. He jolts at the sound, ripping himself away from you. A swear is hissed between his teeth. His pupils are wider when they lock with yours, wavering between lucid and feral slits. “I--I’m sorry,” he stutters, panting, claws digging into the rock beside you. “You need to… you need to go home,” he tells you firmly, glaring as he tries to pull himself from your sweet taste. “The full moon,” he continues before you can ask him why. “It makes us… frenzied, and… you smell really good.”

The way he purrs at the end of his statement makes you shiver in anticipation. You wet your lips. “What do I smell like?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Me,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. When you don’t pull away, he descends on you again, and you flush as his lips brush against the front of your underwear, tongue flicking out to taste the damp spot forming between your legs. “But sweeter,” he adds, a deep rumble in his chest.

“Shouto,” you whine, hand moving to the back of his head. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, and he purrs again when you tug, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t,” he snaps, pressing another chaste kiss to your thigh. “I can’t--I’m not myself like this.” His breathing is heavier than before, and he shudders. “I want to--” His fingers dig into your thigh.

“Want to what, Shou?” you find yourself asking, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

His answer is immediate, a warning growl. “Breed you.”

It dawns on you then, why he was so strange earlier in the day, and why he’s acting like this now. It’s some kind of rut, or whatever they might call it. And, distantly, it makes sense. The moon controls the tides, the psyche. For creatures born from the waves, it must have some power over them as well. And he wants you. Shouto is giving you an out, a chance to run, and you should take it. It would be better to talk about this tomorrow, when he’s more himself, but then his sharp teeth nip at the meat of your inner thigh again, and you let him spread your legs wider.

“Please,” you murmur, head tilting back as he presses his face between your thighs, kitten licks toying with your clit through your panties. Each lap at your slit and sensitive bundle of nerves sends heat rushing between your thighs, and your breathing grows heavy, the pleasure almost unbearable and he’s hardly touched you. He shifts in the water, glancing up at you from between your legs, and the sight makes your core clench around nothing. “Shouto, don’t stop.”

Something flickers in his eyes.

He drags you into the water with him.

A gasp tears from your mouth, your eyes widening as he spins you around, shoving your chest against the rocks. Your short dress tangles around your thighs until he yanks it upwards, the fabric billowing in the water. He reaches around you, palming your breast through your dress, and the thin, soaked fabric clings to you, making the friction even better. The threat of his claws on your chest makes you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder. Shouto holds you up easily in the water, tail flicking wildly beneath you. His hips press against yours from behind, smooth and flat, and your eyes flutter shut as his sharp teeth press against the side of your throat.

A hazy thought of how he plans to fuck you crosses your mind, but then something long and thick slides from a slit you never noticed in the top of his tail. You shudder as he ruts against you from behind, cock sliding wetly between your thighs. It’s slick and smooth on the sides, curved at the tip, and you moan as a long line of ridges along the top rub against your clit through your panties.

“Shouto,” you whimper, thighs squeezing around the hard length pressed between your legs. He grunts against your neck, sliding between your thighs easily, leaving them sticky with some kind of thick fluid that makes your skin feel hot.

One clawed hand wanders down the front of your torso, nearly ripping your dress in two. You arch against him, spreading your legs in the water as his long tail nudges between your knees, holding you open to the hand that slips between your legs. The tip of one claw traces your slit, and he pins you against the ledge to keep you from squirming as the smooth side of his claw rubs against your clit. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, begging for him to do something, as your breathing grows uneven. Sharp teeth bite down on the curve of your shoulder, and your stomach flips as he hooks his claw around the scrap of fabric between your legs, slicing through your panties with ease.

The head of his cock presses against your pussy, more of that sticky fluid smearing against your skin as those ridges slide over your clit. Whimpering, your head falls back. Your hands reach around to grab his hair, his shoulders, anything within your reach, trusting him to hold you up.

“Mine,” he growls against the back of your neck, his hand sliding beneath your dress to press against your stomach. His hips pull back and snap forward just as quickly, and you moan as the head of his cock slips inside you. Each rock of his hips forces him deeper inside you, filling you inch by inch until you can barely breathe. He’s thick, bigger than you thought, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you until there’s nowhere left untouched. You should be uncomfortably full, but the slick fluid dripping from his cock and the ridges rubbing against you have nothing but pleasure coiling inside you.

The pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. His breath is hot against your ear, and his teeth are pressed to the thin skin of your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath the threat of his jaws tearing into you. 

Your walls clench down around him.

Shouto purrs, palm pressing firmly against your belly. You moan and gasp, choked sounds are the only noises you’re able to make as the ridges on his cock rub against your sweet spot with every stroke against your sensitive inner walls. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tightly between your legs until you’re trembling against him. Shouto’s claws flick over your nipple, rolling it carefully with his fingers, and the hand on your stomach slinks lower, dipping between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit until you come around his cock.

Another purr rumbles through his chest into yours, and Shouto’s pace speeds up even further as you clench around him, squirming. 

You don’t know how long he fucks you like this, the pleasure overwhelming you as he pulls another orgasm from your boneless, breathless body. His cock twitches inside of you, seeming to swell, and his teeth dig into the curve of your shoulder and neck, drawing blood as he spills himself inside you.

“You called me yours,” you say, later, half asleep on the rocks, exhausted from your time in the water with him.

He huffs, looking down at you like it should be obvious. “I’ve been courting you for months,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he dips his chin to press his mouth against the side of your neck, mindful not to pinch you with his sharp teeth. The solid weight of him settles on top of you, his chest pressed against yours. His tongue slides out to lap at the wound on your neck. There must be something in his saliva as well, because the ache is gone as quickly as it starts.

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“The sea glass,” he tells you, purring as you reach around him, stroking his bare back. He nuzzles against your neck, kissing down your throat and occasionally licking the salt from your skin. “It’s...It’s what you give to lovers,” is what he tells you, hesitantly, like you might be mad.

But you reach for him, cradling his jaw and stroking his cheeks. “Does that make you mine?”

Shouto leans down to kiss you for the first time, so softly that your heart starts to ache.

XXX

Like so many nights before, you find your feet taking you to the beach, to the rocks that have become a second home to you over the last few months, to Shouto. A piece of your heart burns as you think of him, your chest filling with unimaginable heat. Your stomach churns as your thoughts sour, wondering how long things might last. Seeing each other so rarely, being different species. It won’t work, in the end, but you want to stay. You’ll stay as long as he lets you.

Your lips curve upward as soon as you see him waiting for you.

For a moment, you think he’s asleep. That he was only sunning himself on the rocks, soaking in the last rays of daylight before the sunset disappeared, and he lost track of time. He doesn’t look up as you approach, footsteps nearly silent as you traverse the rocks, knowing exactly where to step. You’ve become decent at sneaking up on him, but he always notices you before you can truly surprise him. His senses are too sharp; he’s too in-tune with you.

Dread crawls down your throat and chokes you, strangling your heart when you see blood smeared across the rocks. The faint smile quirked on your lips disappears as your eyes snap up, locking on his tense frame. You’re close enough to hear him now, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, trembling with the effort it takes to hold himself up. The sight of him makes you sick.

His back is to you, his wild stare cast out over the sea, and you’re close enough to see the long, bloody gashes stretching across his back. Deep and curved, they’ve ripped through his flesh like tissue paper. Claw marks, you realize. They’re claw marks. The spines jutting from his tail are damaged too, some snapped and jagged in places, and they seem to ooze where they’ve been broken in two, clear fluid dripping down onto his tail.

You don’t think when you lurch forward, raw panic surging inside you. Dropping to your knees beside him, you grasp his shoulder, a breathless, “Shouto,” falling from your lips.

He goes rigid beneath your gentle touch, head snapping up and around, pupils shrunken into animalistic slits. You can’t blame him for his defensive reaction. Still half-turned away, his tail snaps up and out. He lashes out, bleeding and hurt. Instinct drives him to it. 

The undamaged spines stop inches from piercing through your flesh, aimed for your chest and throat, a startled sound escaping you. Your fingers tremble where they hover just inches above his arm, heart stuttering, Your chest feels tight, suddenly, like something is gripping you and squeezing, and it makes phantom pain shoot through your ribcage. 

Shouto chokes out your name in the most broken, horrified tone you’ve ever heard. His spines flex, flaring, and the delicate edge of one almost lovingly brushes against your cheek. “I--I didn’t.” He’s still staring at you, looking pale and sickly under the moonlight. Claws scrape across the ground before he reaches for you, stopping before he can touch you. Tension makes his fingers tremble. He’s still coiled tightly, like might lunge for you, or throw himself into the water.

It takes a moment for your heart to slow, the sudden spark of fear bleeding away into nothing as he stares at you. Carefully, you shift away from his spines, movements painfully slow. Shouto follows you with his eyes, holding his breath. He’s stopped stuttering apologies, his jaw clenched.

When you reach forward to cup his jaw, he melts into your touch, shuddering. Your thumbs stroke across his cheeks, slow soothing motions that coax him to relax, to trust you. A soft, apologetic sound rumbles in his throat, and Shouto tilts his cheek into your touch, lips brushing against the side of your palm. “What happened?” you whisper as his pupils widen, dilating as your sweet scent washes over him.

Shouto stiffens at the question, but your soft hands and gentle touch quell the cacophony of emotions swelling inside him.

His tongue flicks out across his lips, and his tail twitches again. Shouto shifts his lower-half away from you, but can’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Even if he wanted to, you wouldn’t let him go far. Each subtle shift and flex of his body is mirrored by you, not giving him a moment to overthink your momentary fear. 

Silence threatens to consume you both before he finally speaks. “My father found out about you,” he eventually admits, allowing you to run your fingers through his damp hair. The pad of your thumb brushes the underside of a cut across his temple, and your distress makes his stomach churn. “He wasn’t pleased.”

Outrage makes your throat tighten. “So he attacked you?” you ask in disbelief, voice strained.

“This is how our kind settle disagreements,” Shouto tells you. A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop. His tail goes lax on the rocks, the forked fins at the bottom handing over the edge and dipping into the water. “I’ll be fine,” he promises, reaching up to cover one of your hands with his. Rough lips press against your palm again, so tender that your heart begins to ache. “We heal quickly.”

You want to argue. Want to check the wounds on his back. But you can see that he isn’t lying. Already, the horrid gashes across his back are starting to close, wounds clotting. What’s left of the blood is diluted from the water dripping down his skin, leaving watery red lines painted across his ribs, like the stripes on his tail.

Before you can speak, Shouto moves again, propping himself up with his tail and reaching for you. Your hands fall to his shoulders, and this time it’s his hands cradling your jaw so carefully, like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held. “Are you all right?” The tip of his nose brushes against your temple as he pulls you to his chest, arms winding around your back. 

“You scared me,” you admit to him, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you. When your words reach him, he tenses, wincing. “Not because of that,” you’re quick to say, sinking into him. The tips of your fingers brush against a wound on the back of his neck. It turns silver before your eyes. “You weren’t moving.”

His chest rumbles with a purr, and your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, grip tightening around you. He makes another quiet sound deep in his throat, hands stroking over your back and sides reassuringly. 

A sharp pain licks across your side when his palm smooths over your ribs. Before you can stop it, a soft cry escapes you, and Shouto jerks back. Mismatched eyes find yours and narrow when he sees you wince. Then, his gaze snaps to your side, hand wrenching away from you as the color drains from his face. “Blood,” he murmurs, staring at the red smear across his palm. “Are you bleeding?”

Panic creeps into his tone. The shirt you’re wearing is too dark to tell, but you whimper as his palm presses back to your side. It’s like your ribs have been bruised again, but so much worse. Fire flares across your ride side when you breathe, crawling beneath your skin.

You don’t feel it when Shouto yanks the side of your shirt upwards, claws digging into the fabric and tearing. “No,” you hear him whisper, a desperate, broken sound. He swears. 

The cut across your ribs is small, shallow, but it bleeds slowly. Already, your skin is inflamed around the wound, puffy and red. The cause is obvious, and your whimper rips his heart from his chest. Shouto’s blood runs cold. His hands shake as he holds you up. 

The venom works quickly. It paralyzes you. The heat burning beneath your skin is unbearably hot, and you can’t breathe.

“Shouto,” you whisper as he pulls you to his chest. “What’s going on?” Everything is foggy, muffled, like you’re underwater. Even the sound of his voice calling out your name is starting to slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, voice cracking. “I don’t--I didn’t--fuck, I’m so sorry, love.” He can’t fix this. He hurt you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop his venom from sinking into your flesh and blood now that it’s already there. Dammit, he should have checked you right away--but even if he had it would have been too late. One second, an instant of his control slipping. That’s all it takes for him to hurt people, and he knows that. Merfolk have no cure for his venom, but your kind do. There’s a cure for the venom of the lionfish he so closely resembles.

But he’s bigger than a lionfish.

“Shouto?” you whimper again, not understanding. You can’t breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

You pitch forward suddenly, and Shouto hushes you, lowering you onto the rock as he strokes your hair. Too weak to pull himself over the ledge earlier, the two of you are kneeling where the rock gently slopes into the water, and the currents cause small waves to lap at you. Seawater soaks into your clothes as he sets you down on your side, hands hovering inches from your skin, afraid to touch you. The sea glass pendant you’re wearing slips into the water.

The currents slow, and the turquoise glass glows beneath the moon as it sinks beneath the surface. 

Shouto rolls you to your back, careful not to touch the festering wound on your side. Your eyes are half-lidded when he leans over you, nose nudging your cheek, needy as he waits for a response. There isn’t one. He tries purring again, trying to soothe you like his mother always did for him, but you’re so far gone to the venom, already half-way lost to him.

The ocean ripples behind him, the water parting as a long, serpentine head breaches the surface. Shouto doesn’t notice, still leaning over you, voice low and hushed as he begs you to move, to open your eyes, but your chest is struggling weakly now, each breath slow and painful.

A catlike, slitted pupil locks on Shouto, then you, drifting between your bodies to the necklace you wear. “So this is where it’s been,” a voice muses. A sleek, dark mass moves beneath the surface of the water, a long body writhing and twisting around itself.

Shouto’s head snaps up, and his eyes are rimmed in red as they connect with vibrant, blue irises set into a long, scaled face. Dark horns protrude from the creatures head. Fins the same deep shade of blue flutter against the creature's face, and lips curve back to reveal a row of sharp fangs.

Breath caught in his throat, Shouto can only stare at the creature he’s only heard about in tales and stories. The sea god. The dragon god. A name sticks on Shouto’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare speak it, not with the monstrous dragon rising out of the water.

“Little lost fragment,” the sea god speaks, voice soft and deep. The dragon reaches for you, one long claw brushing against your chest, the tip coming to rest over the sea glass pressed over your struggling heart. Turquoise light crackles beneath the dragon’s touch, and Shouto’s heart lurches into his throat. It isn’t sea glass at all. It never was. 

“Humans shouldn’t play with things they don’t understand,” Ryujin muses, tone caught somewhere between vengeful and sympathetic. His claw hooks beneath the chain around your throat, but doesn’t pull. The pendant above your heart loses it’s glow, the dragon reclaiming its power before releasing you.

A wet crackle leaves Shouto as he tries to speak. “How--” he starts, cutting off as Ryujin’s eye cuts back to him, silencing him.

“It called to me,” the dragon god states plainly, answering what Shouto couldn’t ask. For months he searched for the fragment of his precious stones, sensing it had been claimed. A wish is owed. Ryujin glances down at you again, a low sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. “You’ve killed her,” he continues, eyeing the wound on your side and the spines flaring on Shouto’s tail. “And such a pretty thing.”

Shouto bristles, baring his teeth at the god. A growl rips from deep in his chest, but the dragon only looks at him, amused. “Can you save her?” Shouto snaps, staring his god in the eyes.

The dragon blinks at him, slow and amused. “I can.”

Tongue flicking out over his dry lips, Shouto asks the question he knows could have dire consequences, desperation outweighing fear. “What will it cost?” He should know better than to make demands of a god, but if it means saving you, he’d do anything.

“What will you give?” Ryujin asks instead.

Shouto looks at you, so still beneath him. So silent. Your chest isn’t moving anymore. Your heartbeat is slow and falling silent as well. “Everything,” he says, reaching up to stroke his knuckles across your cheek, willing you to open your eyes for him, to smile one more time. He swallows down the lump in his throat, glaring at the god. “I’ll give you everything.”

Ryujin laughs. He sneers at Shouto, baring his fangs. “Foolish boy,” the dragon calls him, snorting, breath hot as it fans across the merman’s face. “I’ll accept your deal.” The dragon lashes out suddenly, clawed fingers grasping Shouto’s tail, making the merman gasp. “And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Before Shouto can protest, he’s ripped under the water, dragged to the bottom as the serpent rips him out to sea. He tenses, struggling, but the spines jutting from his tail snap beneath the sea god’s grip, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon’s thick scales. The god’s claws dig into his flesh, ripping through tissue and bone, and Shouto cries out as his blood diffuses in the water. Iron coats his tongue, choking him, and water rushes down his throat as he forgets to hold his breath.

“So quick to leave the water. Never thinking of the consequences.” Ryujin’s voice rumbles through his head. A sharp claw presses just below Shouto’s waist, sinking deep into his flesh. “Submerge yourself in salt and be cast back to the seafoam you come from.”

The dragon rips his tail in two.

XXX

Your eyes snap open. Heart in your throat, you’re unable to move for several long seconds. Your head hurts, your thoughts hazy. The side of your ribs ache in a way they haven’t in months, and you lie there, trying to recall how you got here. 

Waves lap at your bare toes, and you know you’re on the beach without having to look. Sand and salt stick to your skin as you shift, a shuddering breath escaping from your parted lips as you sit up and stare across the water. 

Memories come back to you, ebbing and flowing like the tides, bits and pieces coming together as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The pain of his spine burying itself in your side. The fear in his eyes. A warm breath fanning over your face; a thunderous voice calling you back. Calling you home.

You remember dying.

A low groan disrupts your train of thought, and your head snaps toward the sound. Your breath catches when you see him lying next to you, on his back in the sand. “Shouto,” you gasp, lurching towards him, throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, eyes shooting open as your weight presses down on top of him. Like last time, he recoils, ready to strike, but then his bicolored eyes find yours and it’s like the breath is ripped from his lungs. 

Shouto stares up at you in shameless wonder, lips parting, but no sound escaping his raw throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand from the ground, reaching for you. Fingertips brush against your cheek, his hand calloused and human. “You’re alive,” he murmurs, emotion welling in his eyes.

You wipe away salt as it trails across the curve of his cheek. “I’m alive,” you repeat. For yourself, and for him. You take his hand in yours, staring at the space his claws should be as you brush your fingertips across his knuckles. He shifts, and you realize there are legs beneath you, not a tail. “Shouto, how…” you trail off, trying again. “What did you--”

He hushes you, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap. His nose bumps against yours, and your knees press against his hips. “It’s okay,” he tells you, soft and sweet. “We’re okay, love.” 

A pressure builds in your chest, swelling and threatening to burst. “I love you,” you tell him.

You draw him in to meet you, one hand fisted in his hair as the other wraps around his back, holding him to you. Shouto comes willingly, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s harsh and sweet all at once, all of your combined fear and desperation spilling out at once. His arms wrap around you, fingers blunt and warm as they slide down your back to slip beneath your shirt, wanting to feel your skin beneath his. Shouto’s mouth chases yours when you lean back, and he cradles you so carefully, like he’s afraid you might break.

He’s naked, and you’re both covered in sand and salt and blood, but neither of you care as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

It hits you, what he must have done--what he gave up for you--and your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and nuzzling against him.

But Shouto shakes his head. His hands are firm on your hips, unwilling to let you go. “I’m not.” And he draws you to him; you let yourself drown.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnhabookclub #mha #bnha #bnha imagines

[everybodyscupoftea]

rockin around the christmas tree

pike jj x reader

you and jj decorate your first apartment together

this is in the future when you and jj are in nashville :)

(warnings: cursing, implied drinking, very very little editing)

At the words, “I’ve never really decorated a tree before,” you knew immediately that you were going to go all out for JJ. You knew his childhood wasn’t great and that he didn’t really experience it in college either with living in the dorm and then the frat house, but you didn’t consider that meant he’d never really done the tree and lights shebang.

Over the month of November you started gathering up random decorations, here and there, that you thought could fit in your apartment without being a nuisance. One afternoon you convinced your mom to drive over from your hometown with some of your favorite ornaments and decorations from childhood.

She loved JJ and was plenty happy to part with them for his sake. You made sure all the bags and boxes were put away in the second bedroom and made a promise with yourself to not tell him until after Thanksgiving.

Then you got slammed with paper after paper and quiz after quiz which led you to truly forget about everything until you went in there to make sure things were all clean for guests and tripped over a box full of lights.

“Ow, fuck!” you yelped, looking down to see what you’d hit, stomach dropping when you saw it all and heard JJ coming to see what was wrong. Before he could quite get to the door, you waved him away, “All good, just stubbed my toe.”

He backed away, hesitantly, toward the kitchen where he’d been cutting the turkey for dinner. Cody and Tyler were coming into town, and you were doubly excited that they were staying the night so that you could rope them into putting up the once forgotten decorations.

Just as you finished pushing everything out of the way and clearing off the bed, there was a knock at the door. JJ called from the kitchen, “Can you grab that, sweetheart, I’m almost done with the turkey?”

“Got it,” you yelled back, practically skipping to throw the door open for your friends you hadn’t seen outside of FaceTime in months. As soon as you threw the door open, Cody, who was closest, was pulling you into a tight hug, face pressed firmly into your hair. He sighed, “Damn, smell the same, kinda nice.”

You snorted, squeezing back, “That was soft.” 

“Forgive me,” he answered sarcastically, “I just missed you is all.”

“Move,” Tyler interrupted before you could respond, elbowing Cody out of the way to hug you. You hugged back just as tight before grabbing both of them by the arms to pull them inside.

“JJ is finishing up the food, so I’ll give you guys a tour real quick and you can drop your stuff in the guest bedroom.”

“Sweet,” Cody nodded, “though I’m not sure how I feel about JJ being in control of the food.”

“Let him have it, I need to tell you guys something.”

They followed you around the whole place and ended in the second bedroom where you shut the door, Tyler smirked, “Getting us alone to pitch a foursome?”

You blinked, not prepared at all, “I-” after a few seconds gathered your thoughts, “no, I just wanted to know if you guys needed to be anywhere early tomorrow or if you could help us decorate for Christmas. JJ never has before, so I thought it could be a fun family activity.”

Before you even finished, Cody, who loved Christmas and decorating for it was nodding eagerly, “Oh fuck yeah. I’m so down. Is that why this room is so messy? Christmas decorations.”

You snorted, “Please, I haven’t forgotten how messy y’all are, I spent so much time in that disaster of a dorm room.”

Tyler waved you off, “We’re much better now.”

“I’m sure,” you answered sarcastically.

“I am, my girlfriend whipped me into shape,” Cody told you, “our apartment looks so dope.”

“Yeah, because your girlfriend has her shit together and a Pinterest board.”

Tyler snorted, “True, you have no eye for interior design.”

Cody rolled his eyes as JJ yelled for everyone to come eat. The four of you sat around the small table you and JJ found on sale with plates heaped full of food. Before anyone could take a bite, you cleared your throat, “Okay, everyone share their lists.”

A tradition the four of you started in college was to share at least three things each person was thankful for before eating whatever you’d managed to put together for dinner, usually takeout because no one was thankful for cafeteria food and the shitty dorm kitchen.

“I’ll go first,” Tyler started, “I’m thankful for the Sixers finally playing well, my girlfriend for getting me a new job, and for you guys having a nice enough apartment to play host.”

“Wait wait wait,��� JJ held his hand up, “your girlfriend got you a job?”

Tyler shrugged, “I figure if I play my cards right and don’t fuck anything up, when she finishes law school and has a nice job, I can become a trophy husband. I’ll be supportive as fuck and the  best arm candy on the planet.”

You snorted and said, “Okay, poor Emma first of all. It’s my turn though. I’m thankful for my therapist, she’s really done a lot of heavy lifting this fall, I’m thankful for JJ not burning the building down while cooking, and I’m thankful for you guys driving to see us because my separation anxiety was getting pretty bad and my poor therapist needs a break.”

Cody gave you a thumbs up, “Live to serve. My turn, I’m thankful for Liverpool sucking ass this season, I’m thankful that my girlfriend is good at everything I’m bad at because I’m pretty sure I’d have died by this point, and I’m thankful that you guys live somewhere interesting enough that I want to come visit.”

“Okay, me last,” JJ started, “I’m thankful for you guys being here even though it was kind of an inconvenient trip, I’m thankful for my boss for giving me a holiday bonus, and I’m thankful to finally get to spend a holiday in my own space. A safe space.”

Cody and Tyler, both great with emotion, held out fists for him to bump and then started eating.

-

“Okay,” you clapped your hands, startling JJ awake the next morning, “it’s noon, we’ve slept off most of the hangover, and now we have shit to do.”

“What?” he asked, voice cracking, as he rubbed his eyes.

“It’s Christmas season, we have to decorate.”

JJ groaned, “Shopping? While I feel like this? No.”

“No need to shop, I have it all. Now get up, get dressed, and let’s do this.”

Tyler was already up when you walked out of the bedroom, and he waved, “I ordered breakfast but couldn’t find your coffee pot. Cody is sorting through the decorations, did you have a tree?”

“Yeah, I have one in the closet, we always did a real tree at home, but I figured we should start small and see how it goes.”

“Good plan. I think Cody has a Christmas playlist ready. He’s so excited, could barely sleep.”

He followed you to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame while you made coffee. You chuckled, “Yeah, I know how much he loves Christmas. I’m honestly kind of surprised we never did a group decorating thing like this before.”

“Well,” Tyler crossed his arms, “we did the small trees in the dorm, but JJ didn’t want to buy one for himself so it didn’t really count. And then decorating the frat house was just not worth the effort.”

You passed him a mug and he took a sip while you answered, “JJ never really seemed super interested either. I mean I was going to keep it chill this year too but he brought it up.”

“Cody said you had a whole bunch of homemade stuff.”

“Yeah, my mom brought it to me. I was thinking of making JJ do some of the ornaments to make it even but I’m not sure he’d go for that.”

Tyler snorted, “Man’s a simp, he’d do it for you.”

“Who’s a simp?” Cody asked, walking into the kitchen to take the second mug.

“All three of you,” you told him, grabbing the creamer out of the fridge for him.

He took a sip and shrugged, “Yeah, true. But who are we discussing in particular now?”

“JJ. Whether he’d made homemade ornaments,” Tyler responded.

“He definitely would,” Cody nodded, “I would too. Is that on today’s agenda?”

“It is not. But I mean, if you guys want to make us some in the future and mail them, I’ll gladly hang them on the tree.”

“Deal.”

 “What’s the deal?” JJ asked, finally joining the rest of you.

“Nothing, drink some coffee and we’ll decorate.”

-

After the food arrived and everyone ate, Cody did in fact have a Christmas playlist queued, and he hooked it up to the speaker to blast in the living room. Tyler strung lights around, and JJ told you, “We should just keep these up after Christmas.”

By the time the two of you had struggled to get the tree put together and in a good spot, you added, “Maybe we don’t take the tree down either. We can just decorate it for every holiday.”

Tyler laughed, “Don’t be those guys.”

“We will,” JJ vowed, “we will absolutely be those guys. I just broke a sweat.”

“I will come back for New Years and start a riot if the tree is still up. You laugh like I’m joking, but I will,” Tyler told the two of you.

Cody was barely paying attention, reaching up to put an ornament on the tree when you stopped him, “JJ has to put the first one up.”

JJ gave you a weird look, “What? Why?”

“Bro,” Tyler told you, “lowkey this is a foursome.”

“No, it’s so not.”

“But, it kinda is. We’re taking JJ’s Christmas tree decorating virginity.”

“That’s so-” JJ paused, “okay the logic works a little but I don’t like it.”

“I hate you all,” you groaned, handing JJ an ornament and gently shoving him toward the tree.

“You don’t,” Cody singsonged from his spot across the room.

When everything  was done, Cody turned all the lights off in the room and JJ plugged the tree in. Tyler flipped all the lights he’d put out on and the four of you stood in the doorway to take it all in. 

JJ sighed, “Kinda love it. It’s going to be such a pain to take down, but it feels good.”

“A good family decorating day,” Cody added, “next year we’ll make ornaments.”

You laughed, “Sure.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, JJ hummed, “Gonna miss our Christmas this year.”

Tyler looked a little teary eyed, “Yeah, we can FaceTime though.”

“Are you crying?” Cody asked incredulously.

“It’s the hangover,” Tyler denied, wiping his eyes.

Cody rolled his eyes, “Sure it is. I’m gonna miss you guys too.”

“Group hug,” you said, holding your arms out. For the first time in a while and the last time for an even longer while, you hugged your boys close. You sniffled, pulling back, “Bring your girlfriends next time. They’re always welcome too.”

They nodded and left after one more hug. JJ and you sat on the couch, soaking in the sudden silence. You leaned into his side and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Movie, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you answered, “Home Alone.”

~

day four of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: decorating the tree

#pike!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday #frat!jj

[joat-jackofalltrades]

Batfam OC Headcanons

These headcanons are all about my superfamily, who I've dubbed the Shadefam. I have post dedicated to their basic info, here. I'm posting this for fun and to invite others to make their own super family or OC family with far too many headcanon and random chapters for a book that'll never be written.

BTW when I say S1, S2, or S3 I'm referring to the certain seasons in Young Justice

Buck- trans ftm taken in by Faith at age 12 because his father isn’t able to properly take care of him. (His dad loves and accepts him, but is very broke and wants what’s best for his son)

Hope is taken in by her sister at age 8 in 2013 when their mother died

Buck dates Bart for a period of time before they mutually agree to break up, both lowkey being attached to other teammates at the time (Jaime and Tim)

Faith is bi and doing fine

Grace is lesbian and freaking disaster

Hope is ace and valid

Buck is trans/gay and perfect

Cody is ace/aro and chillin with his homies

Faith and Grace had a fling for a few months but broke up mutually

Grace has a butch lesbian girlfriend named Joana

They always go to pride and their hero atls hang different pride flags the night before July 1st around the city

Hope lowkey grew up without really registering gender and doesn’t say hello to new people, but asks for their preferred pronouns

Bart’s the closest person to Buck in the Outsiders, being the only person that knows about his true powers as well as the few that knows his birth name

Goes to Bart or Garfield when he has a nightmare at the headquarters

Bruce payed for Buck’s top surgery after S2

Keith is the only straight person in the Shadows

Lily is pan and loves her frogs

Lily really likes frogs and has a small tank for them in her apartment

Hope has one frog gifted to her from her favorite aunt

Cody is the only person allowed to cook in the Manor

Cuddle piles when the enter family is together at their secret hideout

Cody is the only one that owns an actual house and they use the basement as their “hideout”

Lots of “Are the Straights Okay?” moments when the group is people watching during stakeouts

Grace being a flirt to everyone

Hope knowing every curse word at age 9 because her sister can’t shut up

Lots of scolding because of profanity

Faith smacking people upside the head

Cody is Buck’s go to when he’s feeling dysphoria when he’s with the fam

Family nights every friday cause none of them got the most normal lives (Faith lost her parents young as did Cody, Grace wasn’t accepted by her family and lost her parents before even turning 20, Hope only had her parents for 8 years, Lily never had a father and her mother is a thief, Buck lost his mother young and left his father before age 13, and Keith lived mostly alone with a constantly working father. Plus they’re all heroes so I mean none of them are remotely normal)

Cody entered the Shadefam after S3 and doesn’t know that he was previously working with Jason for a period of time

Very confused brother reunion when Cody and Jason meet again

The pair of them both worked for Ra’s a Ghul at the same time in the S3

Lily gives Buck a frog plush that he holds after nightmares at the headquarters

Faith does daily calls to her children

Faith was raised by Bruce, how could she not take in a small child that looks like a mini her

Faith being a mom to everyone, even her brother at times

Faith: “Cody… why are you not wearing any socks?”

Cody: “Why would I be wearing socks?”

Faith: “Because the floor is freezing! Now go put on some damn socks so you don’t get a cold!”

Cody: “But-”

Faith: “Do not try me Cody North Miers.”

Cody: “Damn… the middle name.”

Cody trying to keep Lily and Grace from getting killed on the field

Faith trying to keep Lily and Grace from getting killed off the field

Faith moves in with Keith after her amputation because he has a first floor apartment and she can’t do stairs yet

Keith finds out about MJ and Faith finds out about Hunter after he sneaks back in from a patrol before the accident

Grace and Lily are chaotic a hell, pushing themselves as far as they can during training and mission

They are the two that get hurt the most often

Though Faith always has the worst injuries cause she’s a mama bear that will leap in front of her children

Cody will get pretty severe ones as well when he jumps in front of Faith

Cody: “Why the fuck do you keep jumping in front of them?!”

Faith: “I am mama bear bitch!”

Cody: “Well stop being mama bear cause you’re going to get yourself killed one day.”

Faith: “I can’t die bitch!”

Cody and Faith being responsible adults and the most mature of the group, to being bickering siblings at each other's throats

It always ends up shocking the rest of the fam as well as the Team and the Batfam

Cody: “Can you grab me a pop?”

Faith: “The hell is a pop?”

Cody: “You know a Coke or Sprite.”

Faith: “You mean a soda?”

Cody: “Yeah a pop.”

Faith: “It’s soda!”

Cody: “Pop!”

Faith: “SODA!”

Cody: “POP!”

Halo: “Are they fighting over what to call a drink?”

Buck: “Yeah…”

The Shadefam is sort of a faction of the Batfam

Buck ships Bartuardo and got Hope to agree with him after she jumped ship from Bluepulse

Bruce is lowkey protective of Buck (he loves his grandson)

Buck is Alfred’s favorite of the Shadefam children

Cody and Faith are his favorites of the adults

Faith insists they eat dinner at the table together before leaving early to go invent

Grace and Faith have coffee addictions

Hope is not allowed near caffeine, neither is Buck

Lily shows up at Grace’s and Faith’s separate apartments randomly

Faith was the shoulder Lily cried in after Jason death

Bruce accidentally introduced Buck as his grandson to a board of people when he stopped by Wayne Enterprise

Bruce: “This is Buck, my grandson. He’ll be sitting in today because his mother is busy.”

The news outlets had a field day trying to figure out which Wayne kid was his parents and the person that they knocked up or got knocked up by. Many settled on Faith getting knocked up by some random guy before realizing the math didn’t work.

One outlet found out that Buck was born female and called him a “she” in their coverage of it.

Bruce lost it.

Bruce: “I read your coverage of my grandson. I would like to kindly ask you to pull that story.”

Reporter: “But Wayne sir.”

Bruce: “You misgendered my grandson. So either print an apology or I will be suing.”

Bruce does not stand for misgendering

Keith and Faith child’s godmothers are Grace and Joana

Hope and Buck are practically their child’s older siblings

Lily is the child’s favorite auntie

Keith leaves after their child’s birth

Keith: “Someone needs to be here in case something happens to you.”

Faith: “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Love.”

Keith: “Can you guarantee that?”

Faith: “...”

Keith: “That’s what I thought.”

Faith: “I’m not leaving.”

Keith: “I know. And I don’t blame you. You were built for the hero’s life. I wasn’t.”

Faith: “I swear I’ll be careful. For you and for them.”

Both Hope and Buck move to the Outsiders and later Buck leads the Team, leaving the Shadows.

Faith: “The Team? Buck that’s great!”

Buck: “I thought you’d be a bit more… I don’t know feeling the mode about this.”

Faith: “Why? Cause my little hodgepodge of a team is losing a member?”

Buck: “Well yeah.”

Faith: “Buck. The Shadows were just a covert team for the East. Plus it’s not like I’m really losing you. You are my son after all.”

Buck: “I know. And I’ll never forget that… Mom.”

Lily moved in with Jason and the two of them focused more on Gotham, Lily becoming a true Bat.

Lily: “So I guess I’m a Bat now.”

Faith: “Yup.”

Lily: “No longer a Shade.”

Faith: “The Shades were created by a Bat and consisted of like four current Bat members. The Shades are like a stepping stone.”

Lily: “I guess. I’m still gonna miss family nights.”

Faith: “The Shadows might be decreasing in numbers, but that doesn’t mean we’re ending Shade family nights. Bring along Jason, I’m sure he’ll have a ton of fun.”

Lily: “Yeah surrounded by youngins! He’ll be ecstatic!”

Faith: “Well he does need to prepare.”

Lily: “How the fuck did you know!”

Faith: “Wait, what!”

And that’s how Faith learned Lily was pregnant

Grace leaves the hero world once she and Joana get married and she becomes a criminal prosecutor, sealing the fate of the Shadows

Faith: “So you’re giving it up then?”

Grace: “The hero's life is great and every Faith, but.”

Faith: “I know. It’s a lot.”

Grace: “I mean I never wanted to be a hero, I just wanted to put the bad guys away. That’s what I’m doing now. Plus Joana always frets over me after a mission, even if nothing bad happened.”

Faith: “That’s pretty reasonable. Keith tends to exaggerate the smallest cuts.”

Grace: “So you’re not upset that you’re losing another member?”

Faith: “The Shadows were just a covert team for smaller crimes. I always have my back up with the League.”

Grace: “So the Shadows are done now?”

Faith: “For the time being.”

Cody never left the team, but with only two members it became more of a partnership. They continued to work together, with them assisting the League, Team, and Bats whenever they were needed

Even after the team breaks up, they all gather up once a month and hang out for board games, movies, or a patrol around the city for old times sake.

The older members (Faith, Grace, and Keith) do a lot of reminiscing while the “kids” (Buck, Lily, and Hope) just goan and roll their eyes as Cody listens to the tales of his sister and her friends

Lily and Jason never planned on having any biological children, but they did plan on taking in a street kid. They ended up with one biological child and one street kid

Cody becomes the next Bruce Wayne, training and taking in kids that need a good home

Grace and Joana have three kids, two of which have Grace’s abilities

The entire Shade family is always invited to Bat family reunions. Damian was very confused by the massive amount of people that showed up after Bruce told him he only had a “few” siblings.

Damian: “Eight is not a few Father.”

Bruce: “You have seven siblings Damian. Buck is your nephew.”

Damian: “He’s nearly 16 years older than me.”

Bruce: “Yes but he’s Faith’s son.”

Damian: “Reigns is only seven years younger than Miers.”

Bruce: “He still calls her mom correct?”

Damian: “Yes.”

Bruce: “And he calls me Grandpa?”

Damian: “Yes.”

Bruce: “Then he is your nephew.”

Damian: “But Kyle also calls her mom.”

Bruce: “Your sister does it as a joke to annoy your oldest sister.”

Damian: “Kyle is the only blood sibling I have here. Why must I consider the rest of these people siblings?”

Bruce: “Because they are.”

Damian: “Well… seven is still not a small amount of people.”

Bruce: “With the amount of people here, seven is a few.”

Cody is a light sleeper, waking at the slightest sounds

Grace sleeps like the dead, freezing water and banging pots are the only thing that wake her

Keith can sleep through stuff if he’s in a deep sleep, but also wakes to small shifts in the bed when Faith has a nightmare

Faith is another light sleeper, though not as light as her brother

Lily can and will sleep through anything that doesn’t sound threatening, aka wakes only to gunshots and the scrapping of a blade in its sheath

Buck is a deep sleeper, though often wakes to nightmares

Hope sleeps a lot like her sister, though she’s easier to wake up

When Cody wakes up, he’s up. If he’s woken up, a perimeter check is needed before he goes to sleep. If he wakes up on his own, he still does a perimeter check before going about his day

Grace doesn’t fully wake up until she’s had her eggs and instant caramel coffee

Keith rises with the sun full of energy after seeing Faith sleeping beside him

Faith wakes up tired and a little sluggish, needing black coffee to really wake up in the morning

Lily lives in a permanent state of sluggishness during daylight hours, she draws her power through the moon

Buck is always a bit tired, with usual bursts of random energy

Hope wakes with the sun cause she herself is a ray of sun

Faith & Keith child

Valarie (biological)

Cody’s children

Westly (adopted)

Conner (adopted)

Grace & Joana’ children

Derek (Grace’s biological)

Sophie (Grace’s biological)

Adrian (adopted)

Jason & Lily’s children

Charlie (street kid)

Jaden (biological)

Faith, Hope, and Grace are called the holy trinity as a joke

How Lily and Jason act

PDA constantly, it’s not huge things but it’s very clear that they are together

Nightmare comfort

Got together after Jason came back from the dead, working together as Red Hood and Scarlet Falcon

Were rivals of sorts before his death when Lily was still Misfortune. They fought a lot as Robin and Misfortune, though Faith refuses to let Jason take her in

Lily runs cold so she often wears Jason’s jacket

Faith gave both Lily and Jason the “if you hurt my sibling” lecture. Jason was terrified by it, while Lily shrugged it off

Faith: “You hurt my baby brother, I will hurt you tenfold. I will get a crowbar.”

Lily: “Reasonable.”

Faith: “If you hurt my baby sister, I will hurt you tenfold. I will get a crowbar.”

Jason: “Okay ma’am.”

Buck isn’t a meta but cursed

Hope gets killed in 2023 during the first mission that the team gets together after 2020

Shadefam split by 2020, with Keith, Hope, & Buck leaving in 2018, Grace leaving in 2019, and Lily leaving in 2020 with Faith moving from High Hills in 2019

Keith and Faith move after S3 in 2019 to Star City to man the Wayne Enterprise in the West and raise Valerie in a less crime-ridden area

Cody takes over protecting High Hills, taking on two wards

Grace and Joana move to a smaller town outside of New York so Grace couldn’t be dragged back into the Life

Lily lives with Jason in Gotham

Cody was almost taken by the Court of Owls to become a Talon (their mother’s death was a result of the Court) saved by the League of Shadows instead

Valerie

Metahuman with the True Sight ability

Born 2018

Year younger than Damian

Joins the Team as Seer

Connor

Eldest of the Shade children

Born 2014

Joins the family when he's seven

Loves musical theatre

Doesn’t do fieldwork and works as the man behind the screen for his brother and father

Westly

Second eldest of the Shade children

Born 2016

Joins the family when he's six

Works on the field with his father (Bullseye)

Mathlete

Derek & Sophie

Twins

Born 2019

Sophie is a shadow bender (Yin)

Derek is a light bender (Yang)

Both join the Life (much to Joana dismay)

Adrian

Same age as the “twins”

Born 2019

Doesn’t join the Life

Works with their mom (Joana) in the family jeweler shop

Charlie

Equal eldest Shade child (though entered the family far later than Conner)

Born 2014

Joins the family when he's nine

Doesn’t join the Life and studies pre-med to fix up his family

Jaden

(2020)

Joins the Life

When People Call Faith “Mom”

Cody, Grace, Dick, and Jason call her Mom as a joke or when she’s being to much of a mama bear

Grace: “Alright. Alright Mom. We’ll stop.”

Faith: “Don’t call me Mom Grace.”

Dick: “Alright… Mama Bear.”

Faith: “I will kill you Dick.”

Jason: “Oh don’t kill him Mum, he’s a good big brother.”

Faith: “-Jay.”

Cody: “Relax Mother. They’re just playing with you.”

Faith: “CODY!”

Lily does it as a joke most of the time, though often accidentally does it

Lily: “Jeez let up Faith I’m fine.”

Faith: “Fine? Lily, you nearly bled out an hour ago.”

Lily: “Yeah an hour a ago.”

Faith: “Sit the fuck back down you asshole.”

Lily: “Okay.”

Faith: “What were you thinking Lily? You could have been killed. You could have gotten Buck killed.”

Lily: “You quoting Lion King now?”

Faith: “Lily.”

Lily: “Sorry.”

Faith: “What were you planning, Lily? What if we couldn’t have gotten to you in time? What if Buck was in your place? What if we lost you?”

Lily: “I’m- I’m sorry Mom.”

Faith: “I know you- Did you just call me Mom?”

Lily: “Aaaa- no?”

Hope never means to call Faith Mom, but it does just kind of happen

Faith: “Time to get up, Hope. You got school in thirty minutes.”

Hope: “Mmmm.”

Faith: “Come on Hope.”

Hope: “I don’t wanna go Mom.”

Faith: “It’s only for seven hours, Hope.”

Hope: “Mmm. Fine.”

Faith: “Good. Be ready in ten please.”

Hope: “Alright M- Faith. I meant Faith… not Mom.”

Buck calls her Mom the most (besides her own daughter)

Faith: “Have fun sweety.”

Buck: “I will Mom.”

Faith: “You know I’m not old enough to be your mother.”

Buck: “I know Mom. And you know I don’t care.”

faith: “And neither do I in all honesty.”

Tim accidentally called her mom once, which her reflect response was “I’m too young to be your mother”

Faith: “Tim? What are you still doing up?”

Tim: “Working.”

Faith: “For how long?”

Tim: “... I’m on hour… 56?”

Faith: “Go to bed Tim.”

Tim: “But I just need 10 more hours to finish.”

Faith: “Nope. You’re going to bed.”

Tim: “Hey! Put me down!”

Faith: “No. Tim you are a growing boy who needs to sleep.”

Tim: “But I have to-”

Faith: “Sleep! You have to sleep.”

Tim: “Put me down Faith.”

Faith: “Alright.”

Tim: “No I’m not going to bed.”

Faith: “Yes. Yes, you are.”

Tim: “I don’t need you to tuck me in Faith. I’m a grown man.”

Faith: “You’re a seventeen-year-old boy, not a grown man. Now go to bed.”

Tim: “Mmm. Fine. Good night Mom.”

Faith: “I’m too young to be your mother.”

Tim: “...”

Faith: “Good night Timmy.”

Damian also did it by accident once (Jason never let him live it down)

Faith: “I’m fine guys. Just a bit banged up.”

Jason: “Just a bit?”

Dick: “Faith you were held captive for nearly three weeks.”

Tim: “We stayed up endless nights to get you back.”

Lily: “We got to you to find you with a punctured lung and a broken arm.”

Faith: “Yes. But I’m fine now.”

Bruce: “You’re off patrol for the next three weeks and I’ll make sure you get a week off from work.”

Faith: “I don’t need that Bruce. I’ll be fine going back to work and I doubt three weeks probation is needed.”

Damian: “You nearly died Mother!”

Everyone: “Mother?”

Faith: “...”

Tim: “Did you just call Faith Mother?”

Dick: “Well it certainly wasn’t a joke.”

Jason: “I think the demon needs a mommy figure.”

Damian: “Shut up Todd!”

Jason: “Demon misses his mommy!”

Damian: “I said SHUT UP!”

Faith: “Enough! Both of you! Damian get off your brother! Jason stop teasing your brother.”

Damian: “...”

Faith: “Thank you. Now. Damian I’m fine. I’ve been through far worse.”

Lily: “No you haven’t.”

Faith: “You do remember that I got into a car accident where I lost my leg, right?”

Lily: “... Right.”

Faith: “Now I’m going to go watch a movie cause I’ve been stuck in a wooden chair for a few weeks and I have a strange urge to watch Ratatouille.”

And that's it for now. I might make another post about these guys, maybe I won't, depends if people like this.

#Shadefam #my ocs stuff #young justice #young justice outsiders #DC #DC OCs #original characters #superfamily

[enchanted--realm]

When Calls the Heart Live Ramples

S8 ep 11 Changing Times or something like that

Omg the opening!! Nathan at Elizabeth's house in the morning. First of all, kind of scandalous (even my mom was like 😉) And then all those lowkey kinda highkey sexy inclinations. 'Take off your red serge' 'warm you up'. That was a heated scene, I-- 😏I loved it. And yes he did the most adorable thing with the flowers! That was so cute how he presented them. I also loved the easy references about Jack. It's become much easier for E to talk about him in passing without all the emotion hitting her and it's especially nice that it doesnt cause lots of discomfort between her and Nathan. I loved the way she automatically went to button his serge. They are so married. Ugh that scene was just the best and I can't believe that we actually got something like that. I was not expecting anything remotely similar to that so it was real treat tonight.

Lucas definitely sees the love between her and Nathan. And from his talk with Carson I suppose he's already started to move on. And yo Lucas finally took himself out of the equation and told Elizabeth he's setting her free! Boy beat her to it and left with some dignity. I felt for him though in this episode and want him to find happiness with someone else. Hopefully when they write Lucas as a romantic interest with someone else (as they most likely will do at some point) they wont write his character to be so rude like he's been lately.

Moving on, I like how with the school inspector, he isnt some enemy that's easy to hate. It's actually very clear that he's a man who likes his job in the education system and he just wants what's best for the students. Honestly, when he was walking with E and explaining his point of view, I had to agree. I mean, Angela would require so much more attention from E and she's only one person. There's no way she could teach her class at the speed she's been doing, while also teaching Angela and at the same time learning how to read braille herself and teach a blind student for the first time. That's too much for one teacher to handle. I wonder, since Ned's daughter is a teacher in Hamilton, would she come and assist Elizabeth? I doubt it since she seemed to really like her life in Hamilton, but it's a theory. I guess this school inspector drama will be s9 plot bc how can they solve that in one episode left of the season? It's being set up very well I must say.

Ok. Clara. Very quickly, her shirt was way low cut for the times. Quite the scandal that was. Second, I really liked her crying scene when she was talking to Lee. The way she took those sharp inhales, and her change in voice. I really believed it. 👏 Applause for Eva, well done. That whole plot with the business man wanting to build a factory!! It was really good. I mean, how annoying, but it makes for good plot so I like it.

Ah! And Rosemary! The way she fell off that horse! I was kind of scared for her when she was facing those men alone. Ohhh I was really feeling for Rosemary in this whole episode. I thought it was so funny the way she was taking over Lee's office. And oh yay she wants to start the newspaper that's wonderful. I really need her and E to make up. I dont like watching either of them being sad and hesitant around each other. And omg the police that Rosemary ran into at the property. I mean, wow. That man. He was so BIG. Don't mess with him. You run into him down the street you go the other way bc that guy looks like he can take anyone down lol. His face and voice were so intimating too, just overall, dont mess with that guy.

So glad that Carson is moving on from Faith. Omg I couldnt take anymore of them. It was kind of annoying the way Faith kept saying she didnt want Carson to propose, and yet whenever she was with him she was all smiley, like. Girl, talk to the man and tell him you dont want to be with him anymore. Yeah that's my only complaint. Glad that's all done with.

I loved how Elizabeth asked for Bill's help with the school board situation. That whole plot is looking really good and well developed. Oh and the way Elizabeth looked at Nathan from a far when Lucas visited her at the school *spoken in true Hope Valley fashion* 'Oh!' She so loves him.

And I absolutely LOVED the late night rainy scene with Elizabeth holding baby Jack and singing to him😭 That was so beautiful and loving❤ one of the best parts of the whole episode and there were many tonight. I love it whenever people sing on this show, especially when it's a truly heartfelt moment. I just---* deep sigh* It was a good episode tonight.

Quick last thing, where's Ned? He didnt come back with Florence? Weird. Also Florence looked beautiful in that outfit, I loved her shirt. So beautiful.

Overall, such a good episode. So many scenes central to Elizabeth and her plotline, which apparently even though she's the main character I need to be grateful for bc she doesnt get enough screentime normally. That preview for next week was just too much. Omg the way they present the love triangle I-- how cliche and cringe could they be. Whatever I'm still so so sooo excited for the finale!! Hearties for the win! Team Nathan for the win!!

#when calls the heart #wcth #when calls the heart live

[sepublic]

I managed to watch Infinity Train Book 2 finale!

I mean, everyone else has already said it, but... goodness what a phenomenal finale. What an amazing season, absolutely superb in EVERY respect! After Book 1 introduced a setting, Book 2 went out of its way to further expand on it! It... it’s like after Book 1, Owen and his team got the hang of what they wanted to do with the show even more and we got Cracked Reflection as a result!

Lake! Lake is free! She can see her reflection now! SHE GETS TO BE WITH JESSE AND EVEN MEETS NATE!!! Her emotional breakdown and anguished declaration of personhood at the end of the Tape Car lowkey gave me chills... That was powerful, watching her just break down in frustration at the pure, inherent unfairness of it all and even destroying robot workers minding their own business in her pain.

Really, that whole sequence in the Tape Car was nightmarish. Its name REALLY doesn’t quite cover what it’s like, and I felt like I was watching the Matrix with that scene of all of the pods lined up on a wall, robot tentacle-arms, people asleep and floating in murky liquid...

Also, that scene felt like all of the passengers were inside an even bigger, larger nervous system of sorts. And with how weirdly-organic it was for such an otherwise mechanical, sterile environment, I half-expected to see some horrific organic thing at the end of all of it, acting as the brain and nervous system for the Tape Car and potentially the entire Infinity Train! Goodness this train is so eldritch.

Seeing more of how the process works was also neat, as well as new robot workers! I kind of already expected the “Didn’t care about Lake and Dracula” bit but it was still neat, and on an unrelated note, we see what the point of the squiggly red-line vocoder is for on the pods; It’s apparently where the audio of One-One’s video comes from!

(Side-note, but that kid being messed up from accidentally killing a pet... That kind of hit close to home and honestly I felt that.)

And seeing the Steward again... FINALLY! Someone else suggested that the Steward is created to defend the Infinity Train’s mechanisms if they’re attacked, and this episode seemingly confirms it; It also makes the Steward’s preprogrammed command for passengers to ‘return to their seat’ also make more sense when you realize that the voiceline is probably meant for situations where passengers are in areas they really shouldn’t be (especially parts of the Infinity Train’s anatomy).

Everyone called it, but we FINALLY get to see One-One inside the Steward, piloting it as intended! And also, I’m glad to see I was correct in One-One now acting as a Lawful Neutral character due to his power and authority putting him at odds with people who are struggling with the Infinity Train’s system. Seeing him again is so weirdly nostalgic, and I love how we get to see the darker side of him as he struggles with what to do with Lake. Him popping out of the Steward to roll around in stress is amazing, too.

I love the idea of the Infinity Train struggling to quantify an ‘issue’ it can’t deal with by producing non-integers (many of which have no actual mathematical meaning, like ;P). It’s interesting that One-One talks about solutions to people’s problems, and how said problems are shown through numbers. And the solution to the problem is zero... It’s all like a complex mathematical pun and it’s incredibly clever. Also, him explaining that the train ‘fixes’ passengers... It makes me wonder if the Infinity Train is meant to be, like. A maintenance robot for humanity as a whole? A powerful machine built to ‘fix’ people’s malfunctions, a very specific kind of malfunction, an emotional one. This perspective and the Infinity Train’s mathematical, computer-like approach to everything (down to Lake fooling it as if by hacking) makes its nature and unknown origin all the more fascinating. 

Sieve isn’t happy... Big surprise there, but I didn’t expect him to get through the situation by suggesting a ‘solution’ to One-One’s problem that the latter darkly considers. He was always the more clever of the duo and good at dealing with/convincing people, and it shows. Not gonna lie, seeing him die by getting zapped by Dracula’s lasers and exploding from it in gorey fashion was... I should be more shocked, but after the Wasteland I’m not. God I love this show.

(Also, Sieve should show a little more respect to the Conductor and not PUT HIS FOOT ON HIM- He’s lucky One-One didn’t sic the Steward on him!)

Jesse having a second tape showing his experiences with Lake, all as memories building up to his newest problem, no Lake, was also great and I love how the show elaborates that tapes are specifically imbued with the memories related to and leading up to the issue that causes a passenger to board the train. Also, when he and Nate were talking about freeing Lake, I half-expected that joke theory about Jesse yeeting Nate down the stairs to get in trouble again was, like, going to happen, with Nate even voluntarily helping for it. But luckily the Infinity Train recognizes Jesse’s emotional distress of not having Lake as enough of a problem itself, and Nate doesn’t get any more broken bones.

(And can we appreciate how the FIRST thing Jesse fixates on after waking up is Lake? I LOVE THESE TWO)

I love in particular how Lake figures out how to cheat the system by reflecting Jesse’s number on her... And upon realizing this solution as well, Jesse’s number immediately goes to zero because he realizes it’s practically been solved! This kind of clever thinking and exploitation of the rules of a setting and using it to one’s advantage is one of my FAVORITE things to see in media, ever. It’s way more fun and clever than just a generic ‘Hero gets an emotional power boost’ that most stories have, and it’s part of what makes shows like Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure so endearing to me! Glad to see Infinity Train joining the list of shows that use galaxy-brain thinking to save the day!

I was really worried for a second that Sieve would stop Lake as she and Jesse escaped, and for a moment they seemed safe... But SOMEHOW he got a hold of Lake’s foot, genuinely surprising me after I sighed in relief when she arrived in the ‘regular’(?) world. At that point I was wondering what Alan Dracula was even doing, when LO AND BEHOLD Lake uses grass to beckon him!

Really, I love how in these last two episodes, Lake has figured out how Dracula operates and has grass and solutions stored accordingly. It just goes to show how well she (they? him? Lots of trans/NB coding with Lake) knows him. Also, I was lowkey anticipating some dramatic reveal about Alan Dracula, what with the foreboding foreshadowing in the minisodes and One-One’s confusion... But no, hilariously, he’s just like that. And that’s amazing, alongside the fact that One-One just treats him as... A particularly unusual creation of his, even by the train’s standards. (I should rewatch Dracula’s minisode cameos under the context of One-One having made him). Also, apparently One-One DOES design train inhabitants? Or is Dracula just the one? How many does he design? All of them? SO MANY QUESTIONS-

Finally, we get our happy ending, and Lake FINALLY gets her true name, which I’ve been looking forward to all season! Wonderful, phenomenal, amazing, brilliant season and amazing ending! Now I already miss Jesse, Lake, and Alan Dracula. I was a bit disappointed we didn’t get to check up on Tulip or Atticus, but perhaps that’s for another season.

This DOES make me wonder what Book 3 could be about, because there’s so much potential! We still have that blue-haired girl that was shown at a panel, whom an animator was excited to show off... Considering her distinctive trait I think she may be the next protagonist. Others have also suggested the old man that Lake scared off, and that’d be neat as well (Why not both? Perhaps we could have two passengers in a season, or one after the other!). There’s also the issue of the Apex, which as I expected, would be brought up in Book 2 to probably be resolved in Book 3. It’s like how Lake and her storyline were introduced in Book 1, and seemingly ended, only to be revealed that Mace and Sieve are still after her, and THAT storyline is truly resolved in Book 2.

I’m just excited, man. Between The Owl House’s premiere and the Book 2 finale, I’m just blown-out and exhausted. It’s been a wonderful train ride and I can’t wait for the next stop!

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #infinity train book 2 #infinity train season 2 #infinity train crackled reflection #infinity train lake #infinity train jesse #jesse cosay #alan dracula #one-one #steward #infinity train mt #episode review #analysis #speculation

[slowdownurdoingfine]

SUPERNATURAL SPIN OFF

bro I would kill for a supernatural spin-off with the Winchester’s daughter/son!!! it would be set with they’re like 17/18.

deans daughter would be 18 when the first episode is set. deans a single dad, as she is from a one night stand but he wanted to take care of the kid but the mother ran. the daughter (I’ll call her Elizabeth, but ppl call her Beth) is strong willed just like her father. she’s hard and doesn’t take anything from anyone. Sam would have a son one year younger then Beth (I’ll call him Ethan but everyone calls him E), who is 16. Sam is married to a nice gal he met and is happy. E is the timider of the two, while he is strong like his father he just is not very social. Beth and E are best friends because they’ve spent their whole lives togather. Beth, while looking for the vinyl she lost discovers a ring of strange looking keys- the keys to the Impala (which was left at the bunker when Sam and Dean left the life) and the Bunker. Beth, being the curious cat she is, snags the keys and starts on some research. One day over the weekend with E hanging out with her rummaging through her stacks and stacks of old vinyls and pointing out his favorites, she finds an image of a black impala online. she begins to search and stumbles on a photo of one with a simular looking guy in the background. E turns and recognizes her father. oh shit, they’re onto something. the next weekend the two make up plans to do some searching- using a friends lake house as a cover and Beth picks E up and they roll following the paper trail of the iconic black impala- which Beth starts calling Baby. they end by a bunker, and Beth starts to get creeped. she has vague memories of this place, but she can’t put her finger on it. E grabs the ring of keys and tells her to man up, and uses the other key on the door. by chance, it opens and they stand there shocked. the episode ends with them finding the car, the garage door going up and both sitting in baby and starting the engine with both saying ‘our dads are going to kill us.’ and pulling out leaving the credits in a cloud of smoke with bad girls by Donna summer playing.

anyways I had a bunch of more episodes lowkey story boarded in my mind- and it would be good for the J’s because they’d only b in it for the season finale and the opening scenes. it would be centered around Beth and Ethan. ANYWAYS IF U WANT MORE LET ME KNOW! i think it would be so fucking cool

#supernatural #jared padalecki #jenson ackles #sp #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #supernatural preferences #also ignore the typos im just excicted

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 411

This week, on Outlander: Claire carries all of the water for Jamie! Lord John can’t decide if he’s dumb and creepy or a cool dude! Roger is still my designated tea refill break! Bree is back to being the worst! Murgsali remains the best!

It’s week two of my drunk recaps being done while not drunk *shakes fist at the concept of Dry January* and my willpower is being aggressively tested.

I hate this fake-out with Roger as much as I hate the fake-out in ep. 1x03 with Claire and Mrs. Fitz.

Are we going to get Roger back at the stones and his decision to stay and him being recaptured and stuff next week? Or are we just going to pick back up at the village and we just need to fill all that in ourselves? Tbh, I almost would have preferred Roger just not being in this episode...

Oh the title card... Bree is suddenly now a great artist! (Seriously, how the fuck did she never draw Roger at any point before Rogergate happened?! Like, cool if you don’t want to share who raped you, literally this whole thing could have been avoided without sharing that tidbit if Jamie KNEW WHAT ROGER LOOKED LIKE. Oh, thanks for the heads up, Lizzie, but it turns out that the guy you saw is Bree’s boyfiend. I punched him for leaving her, but it turns out he’s just a dick, not a rapist.) (Second week in a row that I’ve made that typo. It’s like even my subconscious doesn’t like Roger.)

And Bree loves drawing the enslaved people on her great-aunt’s plantation! Which she apparently is totally cool with!

Also, Bree says Aunt wrong. It’s a minor thing but one that is driving me up a fucking wall every time she says it. (People in Massachusetts say it like Ahnt, not Ant.)

Geez, Lizzie, Bree doesn’t need to easily forgive Jamie. Jamie doesn’t deserve to be easily forgiven. Honestly, Lizzie is the least to blame for this whole fiasco. She saw a dude being rough with Bree and then the next time she saw Bree was post-rape. Jamie was a complete prick to Bree, beat the shit out of a random guy without letting him get a word in edgewise and had his nephew get rid of him. And then didn’t fucking tell Claire, who probably would have put two and two together, about it. Fuck that guy.

I simultaneously can’t believe and 1000% can believe they read this shit heap of a story line and were like “Yep, this is great stuff! Let’s definitely spend half a season on it!”

ROLLO! THE GOODEST BOY!

Ugh. Young Ian being like “Oh hey, Auntie Claire, how about you go do the emotional labor of making Jamie feel better about being a fucking dumbass!” Hard pass, Ian. Hard fucking pass.

So here for Claire’s “what you *both* thought.” Like yep, Ian, you’re at fault too. I know you love your uncle, but you gave that whole big speech at River Run about being your own man and yada yada, so maybe fucking own your part in this. You didn’t fucking have to sell a guy into fucking slavery. BUT YOU’RE STILL NOT AS MUCH TO BLAME AS JAMIE. FUUUUCK THAT GUY.

Also, Jamie, you dumb fuck. You should have been fucking groveling by now. You get no points for keeping your distance. Nut up and mea culpa the shit out of this situation.

Honestly, if they wanted to make the show just about Fersali and Murtz, at this point I’d be totally on board.

Wait, so Fergus has been unemployed this whole time? How the fuck have they been living for the past year then? What happened to his job at the printer? I have so many questions...

So Bree, who grew up in civil rights era Boston and had a Black roommate, is totally just chill about living on a plantation and being waited on by enslaved people? Like, we’re not going to mention this at all? Cool. Cool cool cool.

Also like fucking mother like daughter. She’s like “Oh hey, Phaedre, I’m going to draw you. Sit there. No, I’m not going to ask if you want to be drawn. Or take into account what Jocasta might do to you because of my decision to make you not be doing what you’re expected to be doing. Like my Mom did with asking you to call her by her first name, I’m just gonna disregard what the consequences might be for you because treating you like this will make me feel better about myself.”

Maria Doyle Kennedy continues to be awesome.

"Sorry! Did I wake ye?” I love Marsali so fucking much.

I really like them giving what was a convo with Jenny and Jamie about Ian in the books to Marsali and Murtagh about Fergus. But man, women do so much of the emotional labor in this fucking episode. Marsali is running a house, caring for a baby and risking having a wanted man sleeping in her kitchen but she also has to like fluff the pillows for Fergus’ feelings.

Yes, I know that spouses should support each other and be there when the other one needs something. But since we see so little of Fersali now, we’re not seeing this as a two way relationship. Just Marsali doing it for Fergus.

That being said, I do think it’s very sweet of Marsali.

“If I wanted him shot, I’d do it myself. And it wouldna be Fergus I’d take aim at first. He doesna put his boots on my blankets.” I just fucking love her so much, y’all.

Does Murtagh know who Marsali is yet though? Does he know about Jamie marrying Laoghaire? Were we robbed of the glorious Murtz reaction we could have had? Le sigh. If I had a drink, I’d pour one out...

Oh hey, Gerald. Is your name going to stay Gerald? Or are you randomly going to start being Neil in a couple seasons?

“Have you been enjoying your time at River Run?” “Yes, I love River Run. I love living with a bunch of racists, benefiting from the enslavement of Black people. I never once bring up how uncomfortable I am, or even look like I’m uncomfortable about the situation. I am not at all morally conflicted about my current situation. Everything is totally cool.”

I raged a lot during ep. 4x02, and honestly that rage all still stands.

Oh hey! John Grey, Lord of Convenient Appearances is back!

Fergus talking to Germain is my everything. “It seems there are some here who do not appreciate your contribution to the cause.” *swoon* I can’t wait for him to teach his lil dude the fine art of pickpocketing...

I LOVE THE FERGUS AND MURTAGH RELATIONSHIP A LOT AND I’M VERY GLAD THEY’RE GETTING SCREEN TIME TOGETHER.

BASICALLY I LOVE MURTAGH’S RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYONE.

I JUST LOVE MURGSALI OK.

Bree’s like that obnoxious college freshman who comes home on break and is like all insufferable because they took like one intro to psych class and now want to like diagnose everyone they know with random shit.

“Must I close my eyes when you are before me?” “Yes.” Well played, Bree, but I still do not like you at all in this episode.

Man, 18th century tinder fucking sucks.

I know this show isn’t subtle at all, but jfc, they’re like punching us in the face with the judge being gay. 

Bree, Claire and Betty fucking Draper should start a club for women who drink like fish while preggo.

Ok so I’m on board with the convo with LJG and Bree about his vision or whatever, but then it crosses over into creepy later on in the episode.

Can Lizzie please fuck off already? She’s annoying af.

Also, she blurts out that Bree’s pregnant but managed to keep it a secret that Jamie kicked the shit out of a guy for weeks? I’m calling shenanigans on that.

I get that the convo with John and Bree about Jocasta trying to marry off Bree to some rando is supposed to like be clearing up the handfasting is marriage vs. not marriage thing that the show can’t make up its mind about, but it still bugs me, tbh. A lot.

I still am lowkey annoyed that they expect us to be so invested in Roger and Bree when they did like nothing to build up their relationship before it went to shit (both times). Like, you’re lazy when it comes to your characters, show. You’re doing a bad job. If no one is invested in the characters then all the plot in the world won’t make the show good.

The amount this show relies on book readers backfilling shit is absurd.

Jocasta, as a woman and figure in society, is a far more understandable giver of this speech about Bree needing to be married than Jamie, a dude who can have her live with him in his and Claire’s house in fucking bumblenowhere backwoods. But still, WHY DON’T THESE FUCKERS JUST TREAT HER LIKE SHE’S MARRIED. SHE TECHNICALLY IS. SHE’S HANDFAST. WHO GIVES A FUCK IF THERE WEREN’T WITNESSES. NO ONE IN CROSS CREEK KNOWS THAT. PEOPLE WILL JUST ACCEPT WHAT YOU TELL THEM. I HATE THAT ALL THESE FUCKERS WON’T PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Ok, cool that Lord John is getting some action, I’m am 10000% here for him to be happy with a man who actually wants him back instead of creepily pining over Jamie forever. But FFS YOU ARE NOT STUPID. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU BANGING THIS DUDE IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY?! YOU ARE A VERY CAREFUL PERSON. YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF PEOPLE KNOW YOU’RE GAY. YOU FUCKING GOT SHIPPED OFF TO ARDSMUIR BECAUSE OF RUMORS ABOUT YOU AND HECTOR. YOU ARE SMARTER THAN THIS YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCK.

All that aside, I totally ship John and the judge and they should totally be boyfriends and bang a lot, but FUCKING NOT IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY OF SOMEONE ELSE’S HOUSE WHEN THEY KNOW THEY LIVE IN A HOMOPHOBIC AF SOCIETY.

Ok, fuck Brianna for this blackmail bullshit. Fuck her so fucking much. She is the literal worst right now. Like are you fucking kidding me, Bree?! You’re garbage. I know this shit is in the book, but fucking christ. It’s bad. Fucking have Bree talk to John like “Look, my aunt is trying to marry me off. That fucking hobbit is going to propose as soon as I go back inside. I don’t want to marry him, you know I’m waiting to see if my parents can find my quasi-husband. Can you please do me a solid and say we’re engaged so people leave me the fuck alone until my parents get back?” We *know* John would say yes to that, because he eventually fucking goes along with it for THAT EXACT FUCKING REASON. SO WHY ARE THEY HAVING FROM-THE-POST-STONEWALL-FUTURE BREE THREATEN A GUY WITH THIS SHIT. SHE KNOWS HOW QUEER FOLKS ARE TREATED IN HER OWN FUCKING TIME, AND THIS IS THE PAST AND THE PAST IS THE FUCKING WORST. FUUUUUUCK HER.

“That sounds like a threat.” BREE, YOU DON’T GET TO BE BUTTHURT ABOUT BEING THREATENED WHEN YOU LITERALLY JUST TOLD A GUY YOU WERE GOING TO RUIN HIS LIFE, YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE.

“I wouldn’t have said a word to anyone. I’d just threaten you with your worst fear. Because I’m a raging asshat.”

It’s creepy af that they’re like talking around John being in love with Jamie. I honestly hate that part of John so fucking much. Like he could be such a great character if they could fucking lay off the him pining over and being weirdly possessive of Jamie shit.

Ok, so with Bree now just telling everyone that it was Bonnet who raped her it’s really coming off that Jamie’s manpain was the *only* reason she didn’t tell anyone but Claire before. Which is so fucked up! She was raped! Fuck Jamie’s manpain! If she wants to tell people, she should fucking tell people! Sorry not sorry, but if you were brutally raped and possibly impregnated by some fucker and you want to let people know who it was because it turns out he’s a fucking sociopath, that fucking trumps “oh, my bio dad might feel icky about it.”

“The union of our families is a blessing to us all. Except for the second someone better comes along. Because omg he’s a *lord*! Bye, Neil. Go have yourself some second breakfast.”

Oh fuck you, Jamie. You don’t get to be butthurt at Claire. Claire didn’t beat the everloving fuck out of some rando at the word of a maid, send him into slavery and then keep it a fucking secret. Also like, why the fuck did he even keep it a secret from Claire?! Why not do what Bree did and tell Claire but have her not tell Bree? And he’s still keeping him asking Murtagh to track Bonnet down from Claire. Seriously, fuck Jamie.

Oh Rollo, this isn’t Terminus. We don’t eat people in this show.

I literalol’ed at them pulling an Everest and using a dead body as a wayfinding tool. Probs not the reaction they were going for.

“He is... very much like his father.” DON’T MAKE IT WEIRD, JOHN.

"Good doesn’t come into it. I love him more than life itself.” I love the convo about loving a kid even if you’re not the bio dad, but this “It’s only new because there is hope.” bullshit while they’re sitting on the FUCKING PORCH OF A PLANTATION, LOOKING OUT AT ENSLAVED PEOPLE WHILE THE REST OF THE FAM IS OFF LOOKING FOR THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE LIVED ON THE LAND FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, IS SO FUCKING TONE DEAF IT HURTS.

“I was upset, but not with you.” Uh, Claire? YOU SHOULD BE UPSET WITH JAMIE. WHAT THE FUCK. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BE UPSET WITH JAMIE.

I get Claire’s reasons for not telling Jamie. I think Bree should have told Claire to tell Jamie since it seems like her only hesitation for doing so was Jamie’s #feelings. And I 100000000% think that it makes *zero* sense that she never told Jamie what Roger looks like. But Claire is doing way fucking more than her share of apologizing here. JAMIE IS THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE DOING THE BIG DRAMATIC APOLOGY. THIS IS LIKE 99.7% HIS FUCKING FAULT.

I HATE ROGERGATE SO FUCKING MUCH.

“Frank made plenty of mistakes.” UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKING CENTURIES, BEAUCHAMP.

Aaaand then they couch it as an “all parents do” thing. BECAUSE OH NO, CAN’T ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE WAS AN ABUSIVE JACKASS. NOPE. CAN’T DO THAT.

This show is fucking *killing* me with its refusal to make the male characters accountable for their actions. 

And then we get the same sex scene we got in the premiere. Because even though Jamie and Claire get freaky in oh-so-many different ways in the later books, the show has decided that from now on they need to be vanilla and boring. I mean, in the book this bit is described as fierce with blind desperation. I know I always say I want them to deviate from the book, but ffs, I didn’t mean make all the sex the same when the situations and emotional states of the characters when they’re together are very different...

And no, Balfe, I’m not a “horny granny.” (Seriously, fuck her for that comment, tbh. I know what she was probably trying to say, but word choice, Caitriona. It’s fucking important.) I’m not watching this show for the smut. But the core relationship, what’s supposed to be the heart of the show, is now monotonous af. 

Jamie and Claire as characters have always been a couple who express themselves passionately and physically. But now suddenly they’re just like soft af all the time? Where’s the fire? Where’s the spark? You don’t need to have nudity to show passion, show. I’m not asking for a parade of boobs and butts. (If there was contractual stuff involved with that for actors or whatever, more power to them.) But ffs, the show is managing to make me bored with the main fucking ship.

And then Roger gets the shit kicked out of him again and I’m here for it.

Because I still don’t like that guy.

(But seriously, framing the various Native American tribes as the “bad guys” is getting old af.)

#* #outlander starz #outlander 4x11 #drunj!der yells about outlander #rogergate

[bylanternlight]

the rules of engagement

premise: you and yoongi are the unconventional type | fluff, slice of life, lowkey actual crack | second person pov | 3.3k words

pairing: domestic!yoongi x fem!reader 

warnings: some adult language, alcohol, too many mentions of a pintrest board, and making eggs

preface: the sequel to my short drabble, a casual proposal, but could be read alone! (the read more link probably won’t work on mobile, apologies)

“WHAT! WAIT! Why didn’t you tell me you were going to propose?” Hoseok shrieked. He dropped his spoon back into his bowl with a loud clunk. The noise was deftly drowned out by the incessant chatter of their fellow restaurant patrons along with the hustle and bustle of the staff, near tripping over themselves in the midst of lunch hour. 

Despite that, Yoongi was still quick to shush him. “It’s not like I was planning anything, I just asked.”

Unfortunately, his friend looked even more taken aback by his attempted explanation. “You didn’t pick out a ring? Or get down on one knee? Or take her somewhere romantic? What kind of proposal is that?”

“An effective one? She did say yes.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “I suppose.” He picked his spoon back up, resuming his meal, albeit with less interest in his food than before. “So, Min Yoongi getting married, huh? The whole ‘white dress, I do, sign your name’ married?”

“I don’t know what other kind of marriage there is, Hobi.” Yoongi quipped, chuckling. “But yes, actually married. Although the white dress isn’t decided yet.”

“What kind of wedding doesn’t involve a white dress? That’s like, basic wedding rule #1.”

“Says who?”

“Um, says everyone? Look, weddings are the way they are for a reason, man. The white dress is iconic. A staple. A classic. People have been doing it forever and everyone loves it.” 

“Okay, okay, I got it.” Yoongi shoved a spoonful of beef into his mouth. “Since when are you the wedding dress expert?” he asked. 

“Sooyoung and I discuss it quite a bit. We have a wedding Pintrest board.” 

A Pintrest board? Yoongi raised his eyebrows. He was going to ask you about that later. “Look, I know you and Sooyoung are the cutest, most gushy couple of the century, but not everyone is into that.”

“. . . So you’re saying you won’t have anything cutesy or gushy?”

Yoongi sighed, dejected. “Hoseok, no, I’m saying that we just got engaged yesterday and Y/N and I haven’t even decided on anything yet. I’ll let you know about any developments. Promise.”

Hobi regarded him with a suspicious glance. “If you say so,” he conceded. “At least let me throw you a bachelor party.” 

Of course, Yoongi thought. Jung Hoseok was never one to miss a party opportunity, especially when he got to adopt the role of the host. 

Yoongi laughed. Hobi was a pain in the ass, but he was a loyal pain in the ass, and he always meant well. “Alright,” Yoongi answered. “If you insist.”

---

From the kitchen, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the thud of Yoongi kicking his shoes off. Without looking up, you call out to him, “Welcome home, hun.”

“Hey, sweets,” he responds, walking into the kitchen. “Whatca making?”

“An omelet. Trying to get rid of these eggs before they go bad. Hey, can you grab me one of those big bowls?”

Yoongi heads to the dishware cabinet and hands you a blue bowl from the top of its respective stack. “Hey, does Sooyoung have a wedding Pintrest board?”

“Um, yeah? Why do you ask?” you inquire, cracking eggs into the bowl. 

“I was talking to Hobi earlier today, and he said that he and Sooyoung have a Pintrest board dedicated to weddings.”

“Hobi is in on it, too? I didn’t know it was a joint effort.” You shrug, grinning at your fiance. “I assume you told him about the engagement, then.”

Yoongi groans, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Yes, I did, and he gave me a hard time about how I proposed. And our hypothetical wedding plans.”

You can imagine all to well Hoseok’s excitement, followed by his bewilderment at Yoongi’s nonchalance at the whole situation. As such polar opposites, their friendship is sometimes damn near comical. 

“Well, you’re not alone in that,” you tell him as you whip the eggs with a fork. “I called Soo and told her earlier, too. Talked my ear off about all her ideas for our big day -- can you pass me the salt and pepper?”

“Here, what else do you need me to do?” He grabs both condiments before coming around to your side of the counter, setting them beside you.

“Can you butter the pan and get the onions, please? Thanks. Anyway,” you continue as he gets to work, “when I told her that I didn’t know if I was wearing white or not, she yelled at me and told me I was insane. I believe her exact words were ‘then there’s no point in having a ceremony and you might as well just go to the courthouse this afternoon.’“

“Speaking of, maybe we should,” Yoongi says, in the middle of chopping an onion. “With the verbal harassment Hoseok leveled at me today, I would like to avoid Jin’s unavoidable scrutiny. He’ll tell us we’re doing everything wrong at every step.”

“Sounds like him, alright.” You laugh along with him, reaching to turn the stove on. “In all seriousness, we could, but would you really prefer it?”

Yoongi, ever melodramatic, exhales a prolonged breath. “No.”

“Exactly. So, I told her to hop off my dick and let me plan my own wedding in peace, and she agreed as long as she got to be my maid of honor and plan my bridal shower.”

“Hoseok also wants to throw me a bachelor party. I swear, they’ve morphed into some sort of extra hyper-enthusiastic power duo. Their energies just bounce off of each other and multiply.”

“We did too good of a job setting them up. We should never have done it.”

“Definitely.” Yoongi, finished chopping, dumps the diced onion into the whipped, seasoned eggs. “What do you do at a bridal shower anyway?”

“From my understanding, we have brunch, get day drunk on wine and then I get gifts, so I wasn’t exactly objecting. It was either that or a bachelorette party, and you know Soo would’ve done some off the wall bullshit, so a bridal shower seemed better for me.” You pour the eggs into the pan and grab your spatula. “They’re really making it seem harder than it needs to be. I mean, I thought we could chill out, maybe make some phone calls, send some emails, do some online shopping.”

“You make it sound so boring.” You look up from the pan, glaring at him, and he immediately backtracks with, “But I get what you mean, of course.”

Gratified, you turn back to your cooking with a smile. “I was thinking Namjoon could be the one to marry us. He’s a minister, right?”

“Indeed he is. Leave it up to Joon to be the local Universal Life Church certified ordained minister. He’d be thrilled to do it. Maybe Hana could be the flower girl? She would have a field day with that.” 

Would she ever. Cute Kim Hana, being Namjoon and Seokin’s only child and the center of their world, was infamous for her love of attention. Though you loved her, she was a little bit, for lack of a better word, spoiled; but you couldn’t really blame her. Her dads just didn’t know how to refuse anything to her chubby cheeks and doe eyes.

“Perhaps the other darling toddler Jeon Jeongguk could be the ring-bearer?”

At that, Yoongi snorts. “If he were here right now and he heard you say that, he would kick you.”

“I’d like to see the kid try. He knows better,” you say. “We don’t need a ring-bearer anyway. How about venue? Since city hall is off the table.” You turn off the flame. With the omelet finished, you flip it onto a large plate and slide it over to Yoongi. He takes the plate and places it on the dining table.

“We have a pretty nice backyard,” he teases, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet and filling them with rice. Sure, it’s a joke, except you think it’s sort of brilliant.

“Our backyard!” You take a seat at the table. “Yoongs, that perfect.”

He sits down next to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “I was . . . joking,” he says, sounding genuinely concerned. “You know that, right?”

Your eyes roll heavenward. “Yes, I know that,” you affirm, smacking him on the arm. “But think about it. We have a perfectly nice, big backyard with lots of plants and greenery and a big ole tree -- ”

“Courtesy of your illustrious writing career and my talent for music,” he interjects.

You wave away his comment. “Yes, exactly, and we can get some nice chairs and make a trellis out of wood or something and we have a wedding ceremony setup in no time. With minimal cost and no middle man. And everyone loves our house, we just have to clean up and decorate a little.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment, processing your new plan. “You scare me sometimes,” he eventually starts, “but you make a good case. Backyard wedding it is. Now, I’m starving, so let’s eat.” He places one of the two rice bowls in front of you. “Happy eating, darling.”

Ridiculous. You flash him a grin. “Happy eating to you, too, idiot.”

---

You come home to a mess in the living room. Confetti and streamers cover the floor, empty beer bottles are littered throughout the room, and a half-eaten cake sits abandoned on the coffee table. 

You knew Yoongi and the boys were having their bachelor party tonight, but you hadn’t asked for details. Maybe you should have. 

As if on cue, the front door opens to reveal seven men in various levels of intoxication walking into your home. You see Yoongi, looking 75% asleep, slung over Namjoon in the back, a sash with the words “BRIDE TO BE” in cursive wrapped around his body. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jin -- seemingly the most sober of them, perhaps besides Joon -- greets, half-carrying Jimin onto the couch. “Sorry for the mess. We sorta pregame-d before heading out.”

“Oh, no problem,” you tell him, laughing. “As long as you guys had fun. Who drove?”

“Yoongi’s brother. He’s on his way home right now.” After placing Jimin on the couch, he hands you Yoongi’s house key. “Yoongi gave this to me earlier. Said I would need it. Hey, do you mind if we all crash here tonight? We wanted to come back and clean up, but it’s a little late.” 

More like they’re all a little too incapacitated, but you don’t tell him that. “Yeah, sure, you guys can sleep in any of the extra rooms.”

“Thanks, you’re awesome.” Jin leads a giggling Taehyung and a confused-looking Jeongguk upstairs, leaving Jimin asleep on the couch. 

You turn to Hoseok, who has carried the cake to the kitchen and busied himself with shoving forkfuls of it into his mouth. “Hobi?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you guys have work tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

“Do you think any of you can make it?”

He shrugs. “It’s whatever, though,” he assures you through his mouthful of cake. “It’s not like Bang PD can fire us.”

You suppose that’s true. “Well, are you cool with staying the night?”

He gives you a thumbs up and returns to his cake. You make a mental note to text Sooyoung about her boyfriend’s whereabouts. 

Namjoon walks over to you, practically dragging Yoongi next to him. “He had that much, huh?” you ask him.

“You don’t want to know how much.” 

“Can you help me get him upstairs?” 

Despite sleepy-drunk Yoongi practically being a dead weight, with you and Namjoon’s combined strength, you manage to get him into bed. You debate changing his clothes for him, but decide not to disturb him any further. You’ll just have to change the bedding tomorrow.

“Thanks, Joon. Now get back to your husband.” Namjoon whispers a quick goodnight as he leaves your room, shutting the door behind him. 

Leaving him in bed, you change into your pajamas and head into the bathroom. After brushing your teeth, you hear Yoongi groan and mumble something incoherent. 

“Hey, dummy.” You kneel next to his side of the bed. 

He squints at you for a moment in his drunken haze, before realizing who you are and grinning a goofy grin. “Hey, wife.”

“Not wife yet, remember? Wedding’s next week.”

“Yeah, but might as well be,” he drawls. “Where were you today?”

“I was at Soo’s. We were doing wedding stuff.”

He hums a contemplative hm, as if he were learning something completely new. “You know I love you, right?”

You smile. In addition to being a sleepy drunk, he was also an emotional drunk. “I know. I love you, too.”

“I promise I’ll be a great husband. The best. Just for you.” He points a finger towards you, almost jabbing you in the eye. You catch his hand before it gets there.

“Careful,” you warn him, giggling.

“Oops, sorry.” He chuckles to himself and winds his fingers through yours. “And you’ll be the best wife. I feel it in my heart and my soul.”

God, even when he’s drunk, he’s the most charming bastard alive. 

You kiss your entwined hands, setting them down on his stomach. “Go to sleep, Yoongs.”

“Can you give me a kiss?”

“No, because you’re drunk and I just brushed my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Cruel,” he whines, turning on his side.

You stand up and round the bed to your side, climbing in under the covers. “You’re lucky I’m still sleeping in the same bed with you and your unshowered self after a whole night of bar-hopping.”

He flops back onto his back. “Fine,” he concedes, though he continues to pout. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You turn off the lamp on your nightstand, blanketing the room in darkness. 

You fall asleep to the even cadence of Yoongi’s breathing.

---

“That was harder than I expected.”

“That’s what you get for not having any bridesmaids,” Sooyoung scolds, securing one last lock of hair to the back of your head with a bobby pin. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You were the one who wanted to be my maid of honor,” you remind her.

“If I weren’t your maid of honor, in addition to having no bridesmaids, you wouldn’t even have me to help you.”

“As if you wouldn’t have helped regardless. You act like a heartless bitch, Soo, but you would never sit there and let me get ready on my own.”

She lets out a indignant hmmf, a sign that she knows you’re right but is too stubborn to admit it out loud. 

Reaching for a bottle of hairspray, she says, “Close your eyes real quick, I’m not in the business of blinding brides.”

You obey as she sprays your head liberally. “There. Now you look level 1000 hot when you used to look only level 100 hot.”

“Rude.” You chuckle at your best friend. “Really, though, thank you for everything, Sooyoung. You’re the best.”

In the mirror in front of you, you see her smile. “Don’t you forget it,” she says, hugging your back gently as to not disturb her handiwork. “I’m gonna go okay? Hoseok is waiting for me.” She pulls away a bit reluctantly. “I’m so happy for you, Y/N. Min Yoongi is a lucky guy, and you’re gonna have the best day. I just know it.” 

She really was the best. For all of her sarcasm, she was as dedicated a friend as they come. “Love you, Soo,” you call out to her as she heads out the door.

“Love you too, slut!” she shouts as she shuts your bedroom door behind her.  So much for that. 

You stand up and adjust your dress, a simple dark red number with a flowy, floor-length skirt and capped sleeves. While it wasn’t technically a wedding dress, you had tried it on and instantaneously decided that you were getting married in it. You also figured it would be more comfortable than a traditional wedding dress, anyway.

You turn in front of the mirror, carrying out one final sweep of your outfit. A knock at the door distracts you from adjusting the last of your jewelry.

You turn around to see Yoongi closing the bedroom door behind him. The heels of his dress shoes clink against the wood floor as he strides over to your figure in front of the vanity.

He stops short of reaching you, keeping enough distance between yourselves to look you up and down. You can't say you're not doing the same.

To put it simply, he's too good to be real. Not just the tux and the tie and the pocket square that makes him look like the death of you, but also the way he seems to exude happiness and nerves and wonder. He gazes at you as if you're his moon, his sun, his stars, and you couldn't possibly doubt its truth.

As long as he's with you, no worries could possibly matter. Looking at him now, you have never before believed so wholeheartedly that everything would be fine. 

You don't know how long you both stand there staring at each other, but you're the one to break the silence with a soft mumble of, “Well, hi there.”

A smile breaks his face and you completely disregard the condition of your accessories, practically leaping to wind your arms around his neck. You crane your head upwards, laughing at his smile that hasn't faltered one bit. His hands find purchase on the small of your back, pulling you in closer. “Well, hi to you too.”

"You know, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding."

"Hmmm, for one, I’ve already seen the dress and two, you think I'm going to let some babble stop me from visiting my betrothed?”

"Hmmm, and you couldn't wait maybe twenty minutes?"

"Absolutely not. If I haven't already made it clear, you're sort of irresistible."

You shake your head at his antics, grinning. Ridiculous. “Fantastic doesn't come anywhere close to accurately describing how good you look right now.”

“Say that to yourself, darling.” He reaches down to brush a curled lock of hair behind your ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Disgustingly in love.”

He places a quick peck on your cheek at the answer. “Good to hear.”

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi leans forward until his forhead is touching yours, inhaling a deep breath. “Happy, mostly. Of course. Nervous.”

A hint of a frown touches your lips. “Nervous about what?”

“I don't know. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly. We really put in work for this and we’re only gonna do this once.”

“Well, I sure hope so.” At his unamused look, you counter, “Look, it doesn't matter if this wedding ends up happening in a dumpster fire. I'll love every second of it because I'll be there with you.”

A comfortable silence washes over the room as you stare at each other once again. After a moment, his head drops into the crook between your neck and shoulder. His breath brushes your skin as he laughs and whispers, “Biscuit, you can't possibly be real."

You giggle at the endearment, pulling away from him. You smooth your hands over the lapels of his tux, straightening them out. Your eyes flick to the clock on the wall behind his head, reading the time. “It's starting soon. You better get back out there before Jin beats your ass."

"Yes, ma'am. Wouldn't want to bruise this pretty face on our special day." Yoongi smiles, placing a quick kiss atop your head. Warmth, comfort, strength. "See you out there, Y/N," he says as he heads out the door.

After he’s left, you sigh into the empty room,”See you, too.” 

You chuckle to yourself. He's just so utterly, maddeningly him.

But then again, that's exactly what you love.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #artemis writes #domestic!yoongi #bts #bts:myg #the rules of engagement #myg oneshot #jesus it's 2 am #yoongi scenario #bts au #min yoongi

[365-money-diary]

DAYS 342 - 348

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-TWO

8:00 AM - I am so tired. Holy cow.

8:30 AM - I make it to work on time (we have to be here at 8:30 on Mondays) and I kind of feel terrible. I make my assistant and I coffee and I toast a piece of bread.

9:00 AM - I call Guitar Center because I need to authorize the charge I made last week for the mixer I’ve been saving up for. The charge won’t hit my account until the product is shipped so I have a couple weeks before recording this charge in this diary.

10:00 AM - I make a new goal in Simple for a king sized bed and frame. I’ll put my DJ money in this specific goal and after I buy my CR-V, I’ll put $100-200 of my savings into this goal every month depending on what my car payment ends up being. I set the goal for January 1, 2019 with the hopes that if I don’t have all the money saved up by then that I’ll pay for the rest with my bonus.

12:00 PM - I walk to Sprouts and buy 3 avocados, a cucumber, two lite goddess dressings, a bag of potato chips, grape tomatoes, kale, an onion, and a chocolate bar. $15.34

4:58 PM - I stop in and get Blaze pizza for dinner on my way home. They’re doing a promo where if you stop in before 5:00, you get a $5 pizza with the purchase of a drink. $7.84

5:30 PM - I hang out with my dog and watch the new season of Love while I eat.

7:30 PM - I head to IKEA. I buy candles, a few plates to hold the candles in, a wooden board for charcuterie, and a small pitcher. $66.38

9:00 PM - I set up all the new candles and my living room looks rad. I pour myself a glass of wine and continue to watch Love.

2:00 AM - I finish the third season in one sitting. Whoops.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-TWO TOTAL: $89.56

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-THREE

9:15 AM - I arrive at work and make coffee for me and my colleague.

12:00 PM - I eat some green chili chips. Today is one of those days where I really want to not eat at the office but I bought so much stuff yesterday that I can’t really justify it.

12:45 PM - I open a tangerine La Croix and make a salad for lunch. I’m not sure about the intensity of this goddess dressing. I feel like the vinegar is tearing apart every part of my mouth.

3:30 PM - My colleague and I are working alone today and we decide to get froyo. $4

5:00 PM - I arrive home from work and am feeling terrible. I have a really good conversation with my mom about how I might be wasting my time at work since the flow’s been so slow for the past year and a half and I’m wondering how much longer I can take it.

6:00 PM - I eat leftover bbq jackfruit and coleslaw but I know I’ll be hungry later. I also browse amazon / the internet for a few ingredients so I can start making my own vegan cheese. I buy kappa carrageenan and lactic acid powder from a weird marketplace but it’s $15 cheaper than amazon. $21.97

7:00 PM - I meet a friend for a glass of wine at Gracie’s. I buy myself a glass of wine and it comes in like a 6 ounce container. I feel like I keep striking out here for some reason. Wish I liked beer better. $7

10:15 PM - I drop my friend off at home and realize that I’m starving. We don’t really have food at home for meals right now so I stop at Del Taco and order a small fry and an 8 layer veggie burrito with no cheese or sour cream. $5.73

11:00 PM - I finish watching Vanderpump Rules and then head to bed.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-THREE TOTAL: $38.70

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-FOUR

8:15 AM - I peel myself out of bed and hop in the shower.

9:00 AM - I roll into work around the same time as my colleague. I make us coffee and skip the toast.

10:00 AM - I discover Amazon has a deal for trying all of the Bubly seltzer. I buy a pack of 18 for $11. $12.49

11:00 AM - I’m knee deep in some illustrator work so I much on some green chili chips at my desk.

12:00 PM - I’m out of kale, so I run to Sprouts super quick to pick some up. I feel really good about only buying kale! $0.89

12:30 PM - I make my salad with the leftover tomatoes, onion, avocado, cucumber, and goddess dressing and open up my last can of tangerine La Croix. I finish my salad and enjoy a sea salt dark chocolate square.

3:00 PM - I head over to an appointment I have with an otorhinolaryngologist. It takes a while for them to call me back. $85

5:00 PM - I leave the doctor with some heaviness in my heart. It appears that my ears are probably fucked. As a consolation to myself, I run next door to Whole Foods and buy a bottle of wine, natural Pringles (spoiler alert: they’re terrible), a piece of vegan pizza, Field Roast mini corn dogs, and a 6 pack of peach seltzer. $32.62

6:00 PM - I eat the pizza and preheat the oven for my corn dogs and pour myself a glass of wine. Today is stupid.

7:00 PM - I literally spend the rest of my night looking at my phone. I fall asleep talking to a friend via Facebook chat around midnight.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-FOUR TOTAL: $131.00

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-FIVE

9:30 AM - I roll into work a little late today, but I’m the only one here. I make coffee for my assistant who is coming late today and a piece of toast.

10:00 AM - I venmo my sister money for our hair and makeup for the wedding. $150

11:00 AM - I get a text from my boyfriend and he says he’ll be heading home this afternoon. Makes me feel bad because I really haven’t had the motivation to clean our house before he arrives home.

12:00 PM - Our coworker picks us up and we all go out to lunch. I wouldn’t normally do this, but she took the week off and is bored and wants company. I oblige. We go to Handcut and I get a cocktail, a burger, and fries. I kind of needed the drink from last night’s news, but am kicking myself for spending $30 on lunch! Tomorrow I will eat salad like a good girl. $33

4:30 PM - I leave work early and head home.

6:00 PM - I pick up my boyfriend’s prescription on my way home. $5.94

7:00 PM - We order JJ for dinner. Boyfriend pays.

9:00 PM - We watch a doc on Netflix about doping in the Olympics and how Russia cheated the system every year.

11:00 PM - Bed.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-FIVE TOTAL: $188.94

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-SIX

9:00 AM - Coffee and toast.

11:30 AM - My boss takes us out to lunch at Bevvy. I get a veggie burger and a beer. He pays!

4:00 PM - I stop at QT on the way home from work and get gas and a bottle of Gatorade. $28.91

7:00 PM - My boyfriend orders us Jimmy Johns for dinner.

9:30 PM - I stop at Cartel for a tea before going out. Friends are working so it’s free.

10:00 PM - I meet a new friend, E, and my BFF at The Van Buren for PAO. I get a rose and we hang for some of their set. $12

12:00 AM - E, BFF, and I head over to Rebel to catch my DJ Friend and the guy I played the Bowie night with tear up the dancefloor. BFF buys me a drink.

2:30 AM - I drop everyone off and arrive at home and fall asleep.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-SIX TOTAL: $40.91

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-SEVEN

10:00 AM - I can’t believe I’m awake. Boyfriend and I head to Cartel. He buys coffee and I don’t get anything.

11:00 AM - We grab brunch at Gallo Blanco. I get an iced tea and pozole. He gets a breakfast burrito and we split chips. I pay. $27

12:00 PM - We head out to Home Depot to buy some stuff for the yard. Boyfriend pays for the tools.

12:30 PM - Next, we hit up Tempe Marketplace and go to Petsmart to get Katy Perry’s dog food. $43.23

1:00 PM - Target’s next. I get toothpaste, dish detergent, countertop spray, and spatulas. $24.70

2:00 PM - We arrive home and I finish the rest of my pozole and then we head outside to pull weeds.

4:00 PM - I take a nap.

6:30 PM - I take a shower and eat noodles for dinner.

7:30 PM - My friend E stops by my house and we head to Rebel for Shopping & French Vanilla. I stop by Cartel to grab a tea before heading out. $5.25

8:30 PM - The show is amazing. I’ve been looking forward to this night for like three months. Both bands are super energetic and amazing and basically everything I ever want to be. E buys me a drink for getting her into the show.

10:30 PM - And it’s 90’s Nite! I light up the dancefloor. People lose their minds and start a conga line when I play Vengaboys.

2:00 AM - I close out with Donna Lewis, collect my $200 and head out.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-SEVEN TOTAL: $100.18

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT

9:00 AM - Boyfriend lowkey drags me out of bed. I buy us coffee from Cartel. $10.75

9:30 AM - He buys us bagels from Einstein’s.

10:00 AM - We run to AZ Mills and I buy a neon yellow hoodie from the nike outlet ($15.12) and a Charlie Conway replica jersey from the Mighty Ducks. ($86.48) $101.60

11:00 AM - We head back home and I pull records for a thing I’m playing later this afternoon. I also order us JJ for lunch. $17.99

2:00 PM - I arrive at my friend’s backyard, unload all my stuff, and start playing.

7:00 PM - The event was really fun. Everyone stayed for a while and drank coffee. I had a lot of fun and I’m glad I was asked to be a part of it. Friend Venmos me $30 for helping out.

9:00 PM - Boyfriend and I run to the grocery store. I get a couple cans of salsa, a few tomatoes, an onion, some cilantro, pasta, cream cheese, salad dressing, and a few big sur breakfast burritos. $26.43

9:30 PM - I make pasta, bread, and shitty salad for me and my boyfriend for dinner.

10:00 PM - In bed.

DAY THREE HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT TOTAL: $156.77